


Blood's Honor

by haunter_ielle



Series: Striking the Heart [1]
Category: Companions-Fandom, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Companions, Emo Vilkas, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Language, Moody Vilkas, Original Character Death(s), Other, Possible Companions Spoilers, Possible Spoilers if you're a pleb, Sibling Bonding, Skyrim Companions Questline, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunter_ielle/pseuds/haunter_ielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karalissa has lost everything she could possibly lose, but she endures the pain life has dealt her with a smile on her face. Things change for her forever when she kills a giant outside of Whiterun.</p><p>Companions questline hahaha</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa has come to Whiterun looking to start fresh after many months in Riften. What she finds, though, is a little more than she expected.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

I hated Riften. I hated every square centimeter of grass, every ounce of water, every drop of rain that loomed over the city, daring me to step outside to run an errand before it began to pour. I hated the Bee and Barb, the only residence I could currently afford. I hated the loud laughs and the drunken belches and the gossiping Argonians. I just hated Riften.

It was a very strange feeling, hating a place. I’d always been a relatively chipper individual, very eager to hold conversation, to learn the ins and outs of a person. It wasn’t in my nature to feel hateful.

            I supposed I was just tired and irritable. I’d been out hunting for about three days, tracking elk, skinning them, and selling their hide. That’s where I felt most at home; in the woods, under the cover of the emerald leaves. My lungs filled with the thick, sweet air that emanates from The Rift. Unending, unwashed, unwatchable. I’d made a decent amount of coin with the pelts, but they required a fair amount of labor. It was a good trip, but now that I was in bed, I wanted to sleep, not listen to the thieves cluttering the bar.

            The Bee and Barb was usually very quiet. It was the main reason I lived here, other than the price. It was nice most of the time, just venturing in and out as I pleased. My room was small, my bed was uncomfortable, but it was almost a home.

            I yanked myself out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and stomped out of the room and down the stairs. In the center of the inn’s main room, Marcurio was standing on top of a table, surrounded by drunken huntsmen and thieves. Marc was typically drunk this time of night. He usually didn’t attract a crowd, though.

            Marcurio was standing with his hands held in front of him, screaming as loud as he could. “Trust in me, Whiterun! Trust in Heimskr! For I am the chosen of Talos! I alone have been anointed by the Ninth to spread his holy word.” He was doing his best impression of Heimskr from Whiterun. I assumed he must have traveled there recently.

            I walked over to Sapphire, who was leaning against the wall near the stairs, arms folded. “How long has he been going on like this?” I asked her, hopping up and sitting on the dresser next to her.

            Sapphire rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s been drinking since Sundas.”

            “It’s Tirdas.” I said to her, feeling a grin stretch across my face.

            “Then he’s been going on like this for about two days.” She picked up a tankard and threw it in Marcurio’s general direction.

It hit him in the leg, but he didn’t even flinch. He just turned to face me and Sapphire, then jumped off the table. He strode up to us rather quickly and got right in Sapphire’s face.

            “We are but maggots, writhing in the filth of our own corruption!” He screamed, spit flying all over Sapphire’s face. “While you have ascended from the dung of morality, and now walk among the stars.” As he said the last word, he erupted into a fit of laughter and fell on the ground. He rolled around for a minute, laughing as wildly as the drunken men at the table behind him.

            I watched the Imperial flailing and laughing on the ground, then looked up at the bar. Talen-Jei and Keerava were standing behind the bar, shaking their heads. Marc was not easily controlled. He was always sarcastic, and sometimes even rude. But still, he was a powerful mage and probably their highest paying customer. They wouldn’t dismiss him, just because he paid so much in rent every week. Well, he also frequently roasted people alive.

            I took a few strides to stand over him. When he saw me, he stopped laughing momentarily. “Well, look what the horker dragged in.” I rolled my eyes. He used that line an awful lot.

            “Hello, Marc. Drinking all day again, I see.”

            “Please, I did some work today. I went on a run with…I don’t know some lady from somewhere.” He rubbed his face with his hands. His words were slurring together, a sure sign that he wasn’t really talking to me.

            “I’m sure.” I extended a hand to help him off the floor. “How about you go to sleep or shut up? Some of us went out hunting today, and are now trying to rest.”

            “Catch anything good? I love the hunts—hunting.” As I pulled him to his feet, he wobbled a bit. His hair had come out of its usual ponytail and was flying about wildly as he moved.

            “Nope, nothing.” I lied, trying to support him. Though lean, Marc was actually rather heavy.

            He laughed loudly. “I knew it! I am your good luck charm.” He put his arm around my shoulder as he leaned against me. His eyebrow was raised, and his face was inching closer to mine. “Admit it, you were lost without me.”

            I shoved him away from me, as gently as I could manage. “Of course, Marcurio. Now why don’t you go to bed so I can bring you with me next time? You’d frighten away any game or gal you could stumble upon, as drunk as you are.”

            Marcurio groaned. “Fine, you think you can make it on your own? We’ll just see about that.” He stumbled off to his room, grumbling the whole way. Keerava gave me a look of thanks, and I nodded to her as I took a towel off the bar top.

            I walked back over to Sapphire, who was still trying to wipe the spit from her face. “I think you got it all, Sapph.”

            Her brow was furrowed in anger. “Ugh, he’s such a cow.”

            “Can’t argue with you there.” I handed her the towel, and she took it gratefully. “I’m headed back upstairs.”

            “Good luck trying to sleep with these heathens running the bar.” she said to me, rubbing the towel against her face.

            I climbed back up the stairs and reentered my room, thankful for the silence waiting within. Though it was much quieter now, but I was wide awake. I’d never get sleep now.

I changed back into some comfortable sleeping clothes, pulled my long, light brown hair up into a bun, and laid back on my bed with a book. Surely, I would grow tired soon. I had lit some candles, trying to make the shadows dance around the room. I always grew tired when the lights began to flicker.

            I wasn’t four pages into my book when I heard banging from the room below me. Banging and crashing and ranting. In the name of Talos, I swear, I was going to kill Marcurio. Alright, probably not kill him, but I would definitely smack him around a little.

            I jumped out of bed and stomped down the stairs again, not bothering to change this time. I earned a few whistles from some drunken thieves, but I ignored them, moving past them to Marcurio’s room.

            When I opened the door, Marcurio was ripping pages out of books and throwing them against the wall. He didn’t have a shirt on anymore, and he was just ranting and raving about nothing. When he heard his door open, he looked at me.

            “Well, look what the horker dragged in.”

            “You already said that, Marc. What the hell are you doing?”

            He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to focus on me. “Oh hey, _Karla_!” He knew I hated being called that, so he laughed. “Nothing, just a little house keeping. Not like I can read them anyway.” He continued to rip pages out of books. I walked over to him and yanked the book out of his hand. “By the Eight, what’s your problem? Can’t a man have lil’ time to clean his own room?” His room had been destroyed in his mead-driven fit.

            “By the Nine, Marcurio, if you don’t shut up and let me sleep, I’m going to have to kill you.”

            Marc’s eyes widened, then he laughed at me. “Oh my gods, that was hilarious. You were almost scary for a second. If that wasn’t so adorable, it would have worked. You’re getting better.”

            I threw the book at him, hitting him right in the face. When he started to whine, I walked out of the room, slamming his door behind me. Talen-Jei looked at me from across the bar.

            “That’s it.” I said to him. “I’m moving out.”

 

 

            I had packed most of my things that night in my anger. The next morning, when I woke, I felt a little remorse. Maybe I had been rude to Talen-Jei before I stomped back up the stairs. He had always been very kind to me. Talen-Jei always asked about my trips in the woods and the people I met in my travels.

I finished packing my things, pulled on my light leather armor, and I was out the door. I had a few things to do before I went off to look for a new place to stay. I thought about Honeyside, but I would go mad if I stayed in Riften for ten more minutes. Riften was supposed to be quiet, but the amount of memories and sorrow I’d felt living in that city the years that I did made me want nothing more than to escape it.

            Down in the bar, Talen-Jei was sweeping. When he saw me, he stopped. “Are you sure we can’t get you to stay? I’m sorry about last night.”

            “Don’t be. I’m sorry I was, you know, kind of irritable.” I looked down at my feet. “No, I’m ready to go. I need to find something to do with myself. I can’t keep hunting and sleeping my days away. I need to find my own place.”

            Talen-Jei laughed. “Alright. Safe travels to you. Come back and visit us.”

            I gave him an awkward smile and a nod. As I walked toward the exit, I saw Marcurio sitting in his usual spot on the bench. The dark circles under his eyes told me that he hadn’t slept much.

            I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm. “Wait.”

            “What?”

            “How long will you be gone?” Marc’s eyes were sad.

He and I had been a little romantic with each other in my first few months in Riften. Actually, we were inseparable in the beginning. We were very alike, but all too different, I think. We were both loners, outcasts of society. Marc was always very negative, though, and I seemed to see the best in everything. He was too smart for his own good, and I was too quick to correct him on anything and everything. I tried ending things in a civilized manner, I guess. He always seemed to want something more, making a friendship difficult.

Recently though, he’d been unbearable. He started drinking a few months earlier, and I couldn’t stand to be around him. He was nothing like himself when he was drunk, so with my only friend here gone, I had no reason to stay.

            “I don’t know. I think I’m going to head to Whiterun. I heard there’s some work I can do over there for the woman at the Bannered Mare.” I raised a brow at him. “Want me to say hello to Heimskr for you?”

            Marc was confused for a moment, then realization swept across his face. “Oh, gods. I’m sorry, Karalissa. Was I really that bad?”

            “Don’t apologize to me, Marc. I _would_ apologize to Sapphire next time you see her, though. You showered her with your spit last night.”

            “Divines.” He looked away from me.

            “Don’t worry about it, okay? She’ll get over it. Just get better about the drinking.”

            He let go of my arm. “I will. Watch yourself out there. Don’t go falling into any spike-filled pits.”

            “Or filthy skeever dens. Yeah, yeah, I know.” I said over my shoulder as I left the Bee and Barb.

            Outside, I was greeted by warm sun, a pleasant change from the usual gloom that came with a visit to Riften. I made it through the gates and out to the stables without a hitch. I got to my horse, Maven, and mounted up. I could tell he was still tired from yesterday’s ride.

            I really wasn’t sure where to go. I figured I’d start by doing that work in Whiterun, but what about after that?

            Growing up with my mother in Solitude was normal enough, but I always felt out of place. The city was too colorful, too cold, and far too musical for my taste. When my mother fell in love with a bard, I was more than happy for her. If I’m being completely honest, I was actually a little jealous. I’d always wanted to fall in love and be happy. I wanted to start a family, to start a life.

            Then they sent me to the Bard’s College. Her new husband was the headmaster, and Viarmo made all of the arrangements to keep me there. I had thought my mother knew me better, but I supposed not. I couldn’t stand performing in front of other people. I hated standing in front of a crowd, people looking at me, being watched. But Mom wanted to travel Skyrim with her new husband, and there was apparently no room for me or my brother on that trip.

            No one in Solitude was like me. They loved to chatter and sing and dance around the streets in front of the Blue Palace. Even my brother didn’t mind it, but he never settled for anything less than being the center of attention. I was more content off in the corner of the woods, away from people and surrounded by the rush of the hunt. I felt most myself there. The adrenaline that ran through my veins right before my arrow flew. The moment just before the tip meets the flesh of the elk I’ve been tracking, before I even know if it will hit. That’s what I was passionate about, not singing and frolicking like a thespian.

            I left my mother’s home at nineteen, ready to start a life of my own. My brother had convinced me to leave with him, mainly because he couldn’t stand Viarmo. The elf had always tried to convince him to court his niece, but he wanted no part of it. The two of us were always incredibly close, and sticking together outside of Solitude was way easier done than said. We were partners in the hunt for about a year, then we got separated.

            I’d been in Riften ever since. No family, little money, and the only friend I had was Marcurio, and I actually didn’t like him very much anymore. I longed to find the place I belonged, but until then, Whiterun would have to work.

            I arrived in Whiterun not long after I left Riften. I had passed a couple of farms, but other than that, nothing exciting had happened. Maven was getting tired, I could tell. I’d been pushing him at a quick trot all the way here, and once we passed the Honningbrew Meadery, he was done. I’d dismounted him, and we were just walking together now. I’d learned a long time ago not to piss off your horse.

            We had almost made it to the stable when I felt the ground rumbling. Maven and I both stopped. I knew good and well that it had to be a giant. The ground only shook like that for mammoths and giants, and the two came in pairs.

            The screams came next. Gods, was it in the city? I hitched Maven to the fence near the Whiterun gate, and took off running toward the entrance.

            Before I could even reach the gate, a bunch of people were running in the opposite direction as me. I turned around to see a giant looming over the Pelagia farm, right across from the gate. I could see a woman with a bow shooting arrows at the giant’s legs, trying to take him down. A larger man was carrying an iron greatsword, swinging viciously. Another woman, farther out than the rest, was trying to stay away from the action. She held a sword, but she looked afraid.

            I don’t know what compelled me to help. I had implemented a strict “stay out of other people’s business” policy for myself when I left Solitude two years ago. It had kept me out of trouble so far, but seeing the larger man swinging that sword, trying to dodge the giant’s feet started the adrenaline in my veins. Everything around me was a blur.

            I knew exactly where the giant needed to be hit. My vision honed in on the soft spot between his eye and his ear, right after the jawbone ends. The softest spot in the human head, with easiest access to brain. Though he wasn’t exactly human, the giant was similar enough.

            I sprinted toward the farm, pulling my bow from my back. I set an arrow against the string and aimed, but I couldn’t get a good angle. The giant was swinging his club at the man swinging his sword at its feet. He ducked, a cow from the farm flying several hundred feet away from the farm.

            I scanned my surroundings quickly, trying to find a vantage point. I spotted a low hanging porch cover on the farmhouse, and ran to it. I jumped up to greet the wood with my palms, then hoisted myself onto the top. Another jump had me on the roof of the house, and I steadied my feet, readying my arrow.

            I inhaled, aiming for the soft patch of skull and flesh. My heart was beating so loud, I could hear the blood rushing past my ear lobe. I didn’t hear anything but pumping and breathing, pumping and breathing. My fingertips released the arrow, the taught string propelling it toward the giant’s head. I didn’t move, only exhaling as I waited for the arrow to make contact.

            It hit dead center, and giant’s head flew back. Its legs gave way to the weight of its limp body, and it began to fall. “Move!” I heard the woman with the bow scream as everyone darted away from the shadow of the falling lump. The giant came down with a crash, squishing the crops that grew beneath him.

            I lowered my arms then, my momentary bloodlust ended. I turned to hop off of the roof and run before anyone saw me, but I was too late. The small group of people stood below me, staring with questioning eyes.

            I climbed down slowly, trying to muster enough courage to talk to them. My heart was still beating loudly, and they looked like they could hear it. My feet hit the ground, and I walked over to them.

            “Hi.” I said, unsure of what else to say.

            The huntress and the large man stood in front of the woman who had never taken a swing. The woman had long red hair and a pretty face under three blue stripes of war paint. The man towered over me, and the rest of the group, with long black hair and silver eyes. The other girl was an Imperial, quiet and observant.

            “Hey there.” The man said.

            “You took down a giant with one arrow.” The Nord woman with the warpaint said, her eyebrow raised. She was looking me up and down, all around me, but not at me.

            “Uh, yeah. I guess so.” I rubbed the back of my neck and looked at my feet.

            “It was awesome.” The man said. His voice was a deep baritone, but I was so captivated by his eyes. They were so light, but so compassionate. Eyes that held a secret. Who were these people? Fighter’s Guild? Whiterun Protection Program? His eyebrows were furrowed now. Wait, was someone talking to me?

            “I’m sorry, what?” I said to no one in particular, looking around. Oh gods, how long had I been staring at him?

            “I asked what your name was.” The huntress said, a sly smile on her face.

            I cleared my throat, trying to recover from looking like a complete idiot. “Karalissa.” I told her.

            “You from around here, Karalissa?” she asked.

            “Uh, no, actually. I was just coming to do some work in Whiterun.” The woman behind them rolled her eyes and wandered away. Off to find something more interesting than me talking.

            “I’m Aela.” she said, extending her hand. I shook it as she nodded over her shoulder at the man. “That’s Farkas.”

            “Nice to meet you both.” I said, trying to seem confident. I let go of her hand, trying not to shake for too long.

            “When you finish whatever work you came for, you should head up to Jorrvaskr. It’s just past the Mare. I’m sure we could find some work for you.” Aela said, nodding at me.

            “More fun than chopping wood, too.” Farkas said to me.

            I nodded to him, grinning with a crooked smile. “I’m sure it is. I’ll head up there later.”

            “Good.” Farkas said. “Ask for Aela or me. We’ll bring you to Kodlak.” They both turned to leave, heading back to the city gates.

            “Okay.” I said quietly, bursting with internal excitement. Maybe they were a clan of hunters, and I could join them. No, don’t get too excited. They could just want to have a drink.

            “Ahem.” I heard from behind me. I turned to see Pelagia, his hands on his hips. “Are you going to remove the giant?” He gestured to the huge man, crushing his crops.

            I rolled my eyes, “Well I didn’t bring the giant here.” I started to walk away from him, hearing him grumble and grunt as I left.


	2. A New Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of a conversation with Kodlak, Vilkas is interrupted by an outsider he's never even heard of. When he's sent to test her arm, he finds that everyone already seems to know her.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

‘Disappointed’ could not accurately describe how my heart ached. Kodlak had recently called the Circle for a meeting, urging us to heed his warning.

  
“I’ve had a dream, family. A dream that explained to me the afterlife that awaits all of us.” he had said. Upon understanding that we would not go to Sovngarde, my heart had been heavy. All Nords dream of ascending to Sovngarde, feasting with the mighty Tsun himself.

  
Skjor and Aela couldn’t have cared any less, for they didn’t care at all. The beast does not have to call to them because they beckon to the beast. The love and passion they had for the blood of Hircine was almost enviable.

  
I had deeper concerns, though. Since Kodlak had discovered that he had contracted The Rot, he had changed. He locked himself in his chambers, night and day, searching every Tome he could possibly reach. Kodlak yearned for a cure, not for The Rot, but for our lycanthropy. At that point, though, it had been _years_  of hopeful search, and he was beginning to lose hope.

  
Farkas and I had always loved Kodlak like a father, so we went wherever he strode. His words the only rule my brother and I needed, urging us to follow his every action. Farkas eagerly, and successfully, obeyed Kodlak’s wish that we do not give into the blood anymore. I had been having trouble though, Hircine’s scream louder and louder in my head. It seemed the more I fought it, the more the beast yearned to be released. It didn’t help seeing Skjor and Aela seemingly unbothered by the news of our fate.

  
I had sought Kodlak’s council that morning, trying to gain guidance in his ways of suppression. I had tried for weeks, but the blood was much stronger than me. I had given in to my transformations twice since the meeting.

  
I sat across from Kodlak at the small table in his chamber. It was very difficult to see him in such pain. Since he’d discovered The Rot, he had become so weak. Once incredibly strong and undeniably humorous, yet then so feeble. Kodlak’s face alone showed how The Rot had progressed, previously so handsome and now so hollow.

  
“I’ve been trying to fight my urges, Kodlak. I’m having a great deal of trouble keeping the blood at bay.” I said to him, hoping he wouldn’t be disappointed. “Farkas is having such an easy time with this, and I don’t understand why I cannot.”

  
Kodlak laughed. “The problem is you think too much, my son.” My heart throbbed at the term of endearment. “Your brother’s brains, though existent, are not as mighty as yours, and they do not work as quickly. You analyze everything until it no longer exists. If you just stayed in the present, you would have no trouble.”

  
“Farkas says he no longer hears the beast.”

  
His eyes were soft. “It’s not a competition. Your brother’s urges have subsided. Yours will with time.”

  
“But I still hear the call of the blood.” I said to him.

  
“We all do.” he replied. “It is our burden to bear. But we can all overcome.”

  
There was a knock at the door just then. Kodlak and I jumped at the sound, then both laughed quietly as we recovered. Kodlak invited the visitor in.

  
As the door opened, a woman entered. Her face was eager, as many visitors usually were, but she looked rather nervous as well. I couldn’t think of a reason she could possibly be here. Many strangers came to Kodlak asking for a place in the Companions, but this girl didn’t belong here at all.

  
She was beautiful, the first sign that she didn’t belong. Don’t misunderstand me, Aela was very pretty, but she quite obviously knew it and never let any of us forget it. This visitor seemed oblivious to the fact that she was so out of place. She had long hair, the color of honey, pooling over her shoulders and nearly down to her waist, and large brown eyes that looked upon us with curiosity. She wore light leather armor, but cloth boots, no doubt to make her approach as quiet as possible. She was clutching the bow that was draped across her shoulder for support.

  
I looked to Kodlak, registering his emotions before I formed my own opinion, something I did very often. Kodlak looked at this woman in a way I’ve never seen before. It was like he recognized her.

  
“A stranger comes to our hall.” He said. I grunted, agreeing with him.

  
She swallowed before answering. “Uh, yes. Aela told me to come find her today, but she’s not here. Skjor told me to come speak to Kodlak.” Her voice was not as high as I had imagined it would be, a soft-spoken alto.

  
“I’m Kodlak Whitemane. Is there something I can help you with?” the old man said.

  
“Well, I’d like to join the Companions.” she stammered. I couldn’t help myself from laughing, such a delicate girl looking to become a warrior. She shot me a look that could kill if it wasn’t actually rather adorable.

  
Kodlak nodded at her. “Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you.” He stood from his chair, towering over the girl. Even as a Nord, she was shorter than him, probably hovering around five-foot-ten. As he circled her slowly, no doubt a pain for him, I rose from my seat to lean against the bookcase, sizing her up for myself. “Do you have a name?” Kodlak asked her.

  
“Karalissa.” The woman’s eyes darted between me and Kodlak, seeking approval.

 

Kodlak stood in front of her, nodding his head. “Karalissa. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit.”

  
I scoffed. “Master, you’re not truly considering accepting her?” I looked at the girl challengingly. She looked so angry with me, but I could see the softness in her eyes, betraying a kind heart.

  
“I am nobody’s master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts.”

  
I looked from Kodlak to the girl. “Apologies, but perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider.” I furrowed my brow.

  
“Sometimes the famous come to us.” Kodlak said as he lowered himself back into his seat. “Sometimes men and women come to seek their fame. It makes no difference.” He looked back at me. “What matters is their heart.”

  
I snorted. “And their arm.”

  
Kodlak nodded, “Of course. How are you in a battle, girl?”

  
She thought for a moment. “I can handle myself.” She must have realized she was gripping her bow, for she released it suddenly, folding her hands behind her back.

  
Kodlak nodded again. Still looking at my face in wonder. “That may be so.” He gestured to me. “This is Vilkas. He will test your arm.” He turned to face me. “Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do.”

  
I waited for the joke to end, but he was apparently serious. Kodlak never just accepted people into the Companions. I couldn’t believe it. The girl looked far too excited, bouncing from foot to foot as if he'd just handed a small child a gift. 

  
I let out a long sigh, taking my weight off of the bookcase. I rolled my eyes as I looked at her, then at Kodlak. “Aye.” I groaned.

  
I pushed past her and headed for the door. I heard her following behind me quietly, her soft boots muffling any noise she could have made. Soon after we left Kodlak’s room, she trotted up to me to close the bit of distance between us.

  
“Vilkas, right?” she tried to spark up a conversation.

  
“Aye.”

  
“When Kodlak says ‘test your arm’, he means a fight, right?” I looked at her over my shoulder. Her face was so worried, it was almost funny. I cracked a smile at her.  
“Don’t worry, little girl. I won’t rough you up too badly.”

  
She glared at me, trying so hard to look intimidating. “Well, I can’t promise the same if you call me little again.” Feisty, this one.

  
She followed me up the steps leading back to the main room of Jorrvaskr, the mess hall, and out of the side entrance. We stepped out into the middle of the yard, where I turned to face her.

  
“The old man said to have a look at you, so let’s do this.” I said, pulling out my sword. “Just have a few swings at me so I can see your form.”

  
She didn’t have a sword, just the bow. She seemed embarrassed, which was all too funny to me, but I didn’t let it show. I just rolled my eyes and handed her my sword. I took one of the wooden swords from a practice mannequin and held it up to block whatever she would throw my way. She looked concerned as she measured the weight of the blade in her hand, then looked at my wooden blade, so I added, “Don’t worry. I can take it.”

  
She straightened her shoulders, a sly smile stretching across her cheeks as she lifted the blade for battle. That’s when her entire aura transformed. No longer an innocent stranger, the woman wielded my sword with pride. She brought several blows in my direction, each of which I blocked with the pretend sword. For every swing I blocked, she was quick to counter. Eventually, she hit my wooden means of protection with enough force to snap it in half.

  
The corners of my mouth stretched into a grimace of approval. I tossed the scrap wood to the side. “Not bad. Next time won’t be so easy.” I nodded to her as a smile stretched across her face. “You might just make it. But for now, you’re still a whelp to us, new blood.”

  
“Thanks, Vilkas.” She said, handing my sword back to me. The way she said my name was funny to me. I’d grown so used to the accents that many of the Companions, including myself, carried. Most said my name with a thick tongue, pronouncing every letter and vowel with prominent articulation. It sounded foreign to me as she spoke my name with an accent of such ease, like she’d been saying it for years.

  
I didn’t take the sword from her, trying to shake my curiosity. “Take it up to Eorland and have it sharpened.”

  
“What?” She put her hands on her hips, challenging me.

  
“You do what we say, new blood. Take it to the Skyforge.” I walked away from her, toward the doors of Jorrvaskr.

  
“Want a sweet roll or some mead while I’m up there?” She asked sarcastically.

  
I couldn’t help laughing. “Be careful with that. It’s probably worth more than you are.” I heard her grumble as the door closed behind me. I looked around the mess hall, unable to suppress a quiet laugh.

  
“What’s so funny?”

  
The voice made me jump, but it was all too recognizable. I hadn’t noticed my brother sitting on the bench next to the door.

  
“Nothing, brother. Don’t worry about it.” I sat next to Farkas, crossing my arms and leaning back into the chair. He had a fresh gash across his arm.

  
“What happened to you?” I said, trying to sound more sarcastic than concerned.

  
“Just a scratch. Got distracted fighting a giant.”

  
“The mighty Farkas was distracted? What a surprise.”

  
My brother smacked the back of my head, reminding me once again that even though I was older, he was much stronger. After I shouted about the blow, Farkas laughed. “There was a girl out there. She killed the giant.”

  
“Ah, yet another shocking revelation. My brother was distracted in battle by a girl.”

  
“Can it, Vilkas. She was pretty, sure, but that’s not it. She came out of nowhere. Killed the giant with one arrow.” He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. “It was awesome.”

  
“An arrow, you say? Nord? Long hair?”

 

“Yep. We told her to come up here and join. Aela hasn’t stopped talking about her.”

  
I sighed. “Oh, she’s here, brother. I just tested her arm in the courtyard.”

  
Skjor walked past just then, stopping to talk to us. He folded his arms across his chest. “How’d the girl do?”

  
I let out an irritated grunt. “Does everyone know this girl? I’ve never even heard of her until moments ago and—” Skjor’s challenging look cut my thoughts short. “She did well enough.”

  
Skjor nodded. “I like her. Something about her is very interesting.” He leaned against the railing behind him, still facing us with his arms crossed. “The huntress swears she’ll be one of us in no time.”

  
“You mean ‘your huntress.’” Farkas laughed, earning a look of hatred from Skjor. I nudged my brother, urging him to shut up. Skjor was to be Kodlak’s predecessor, and he deserved the utmost respect. Still, we had known him since we were biting ankles. He was like an older brother to us, and he accepted our joking most of the time. Farkas started to laugh. “Not like it isn’t true. Can’t deny what I’ve already walked in on.”

  
“Mind your tongue, kid, or I’ll have the whelp kill you with one arrow, too.” Skjor gave us a wink, letting us know he would get us back for the teasing. We watched him walk away, and I gave my brother another playful nudge to cease his laughter.


	3. New Challenges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skjor's time spent with Aela is interrupted by the newest Companion. Later, he finds out that she may need to train some more.
> 
> POV: Skjor

“Don’t let Kodlak get under your skin.” Aela said to me. We were standing in my room, talking quietly about recent events. Aela and I couldn’t figure out why Kodlak was so determined to cure his lycanthropy. It wasn’t a curse, for it was all too much a blessing.

  
We were reflecting on our most recent hunt, the goats we caught, all thirty-four captured within the hour and our bloodlust extended considerably. Aela had been so graceful that night. Even as a wolf, large and brown and thirsty for blood, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever known.

  
“Skjor?” Aela said to me, waving her hand in front of my good eye.

  
“Huh?” I didn’t even hear her talking, so caught up in memories from a few nights ago.

  
“I asked what you think we should do.” She raised an eyebrow, her eyes quizzical beneath blue war paint.

  
“About Kodlak?” She nodded, and I continued. “I guess we should try to keep a low profile. Transformations as few as possible, quiet hunts. I love the old man, and I don’t want to upset him.”

  
Aela nodded. “I agree. I don’t think I could give it up all together. The beast is too much a part of me.” Her blue eyes were so sad, colder than usual. I put my hand on her cheek, running my thumb across her eyebrow.

  
“I want to roam the Hunting Grounds with no one more than you, my love.” She smiled as I spoke, resting the weight of her head against my hand. We couldn’t do much more than this in Jorrvaskr. We would end up the bud of some un-funny joke, for sure. We saved our romance for the fields of Skyrim in the open air that yielded seeing eyes.

  
We heard footsteps approaching the door then, and we jolted away from each other. We had enough sense at this point to know when someone was headed for us. Farkas had walked in on our private moments on more occasions than one, and he was the worst of all with the jokes.

  
The door swung open and the girl from earlier walked in. She had entered Jorrvaskr with a heavy heart, I could tell. She had asked where to find Aela, but my huntress was asleep, so I sent her straight to Kodlak. Things must have gone well, or she wouldn’t be here now.

  
“Heard of knocking, kid?” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers.

  
The girl stood in the doorway awkwardly. “I have, actually. Sorry.” She held a shield out in front of her. “I just wanted to bring this to Aela.”

  
My huntress smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this. Thank you.” She took the shield from the girl, running her hand over the fresh metal. She looked back at the girl. “I’m glad to see you made it up here.”

  
“Oh yeah. She marched right up here demanding to speak to you.” I said, earning a blush from the girl. “Remind me of your name, kid. It’s too long to remember.”

  
The girl furrowed her brow, shooting me a very memorable glare. “Karalissa.”

  
I laughed at how intimidating she was trying to be. “That’s a mouthful. We’ll have to do something about that.”

  
Aela rolled her eyes. “I heard you gave Vilkas quite the thrashing.” She said to Karalissa.

  
The girl shrugged. “He didn’t put up much of a fight.”

  
“How old are you, kid?” I interrupted. “Can’t be more than twenty.”

  
The girl furrowed her brow. “Twenty-one.”

  
I scoffed. “You’re lying.”

  
A sly grin stretched across my huntress’ face, then she continued the conversation I had interrupted. She loved interrogating new blood. “Do you think you could handle Vilkas in a real fight?” It was the same question she always asked, no matter who tested the arm of someone seeking the Companions. The answers always varied, and all said something different about the warriors.

  
“I don’t care for boasting.” Karalissa said. Even thinking the name was a strain on the temple.

  
Aela nodded in approval. “A woman who lets her actions speak for her. I knew there was something I liked about you.” Aela looked at me, silently asking permission to give her work. We’d done this many times before. My huntress looked so eager, I just laughed and nodded.

  
“Here, let’s have Farkas show you where you’ll be resting your head.” I said to the whelp. I turned toward the door, yelling Farkas’ name as loud as I could. The sound echoed off the wall, causing the whelp to flinch.

  
I heard a grumble from down the hall, and the springs creak as heavy Farkas rolled out of bed. Heavy footsteps came down the hall toward us.

  
Farkas appeared in the doorway moments later. The man was easily almost a foot taller than the whelp, and the size of two of her put together. He looked at me, his eyes full of sleep. “Did you call me?”

  
My huntress laughed. “Of course we did, Icebrain.” Farkas grunted at her snarky remark. “Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep.”

  
Farkas looked at the girl. “New blood. Oh, I remember you. Come on, follow me.” The two of them left as quickly as they came, closing the door behind them and talking about absolutely nothing as they walked down the hall. No doubt, Farkas would talk about work, then give her something to test her might. We’d let him decide.

  
Aela looked at me, her eyes wide with excitement. “You should have seen her out at the Pelagia Farm, Skjor. She took down a giant with one arrow.”

  
I raised the brow over my good eye. “So I’ve heard. Sounds like a true warrior. She could do well here.”

  
She smiled coyly. “She could do well in the Circle, too. She has a naturally heightened instinct of the hunt.”

  
I brushed some hair behind her ear. “Anything to make you happy, Aela."

 

 

  
We were sitting in the main, messy hall of Jorrvaskr, drinking ourselves silly. The members of the Circle, excluding Kodlak, were gathered around a small table in the corner, listening to the chatter of the other Companions. They were all swarmed around the newest whelp, telling her everything she needed to know about the Companions, all hilariously drunk. Ria and Njada were on one side of her, laughing as Torvar spoke to the whelp.

  
“Karalissa, if you’re not spoken for, I’ll marry ya. I’d marry ya twice if I could.” The women erupted in a fit of wild laughter. Athis laughed too, but he was quite obviously curious to see if she had a male caller. Even beneath her freshly bruised face, the girl was very pretty.

  
The whelp just smiled politely at Torvar. “Perhaps I’ll marry you, but only when you’re not too drunk to remember your shoes.” She looked down, the women screaming with laughter again as they saw Torvar’s bare feet. He grumbled something unintelligible, and Athis spoke in his place.

  
“I’m wearing shoes, Karalissa. Will you marry me?”

  
Karalissa laughed again. “Oh, I would, Athis, but I’ve already promised myself to Torvar once he covers his feet.” Ria was crying from laughing so hard.

  
I looked at my huntress, then at the twins. Farkas and Vilkas were already drunk, as was I, but Aela was only a little intoxicated, looking nothing but beautiful in the seat beside me. It took all of my strength not to put my arm around her shoulder and hold her close to me.

  
She must have noticed me staring and decided I needed a distraction. She winked at me, and called the whelp to our table.

  
“Karalissa. Sit with us. I wish to hear the tale of your mission.”

  
The whelp smiled and walked toward us, ignoring the protests from the Companions around her. Her face had taken a fair amount of damage in whatever test Farkas had given her, and it stood out, a contrast against a pretty face. As she headed our way, I reached out with my leg and hooked my foot around the leg of a chair, pulling it in between Vilkas and me. The whelp sat, looking completely at ease. She pulled the bow off of her shoulder, setting it against the wall behind Vilkas.

  
“Let’s hear it, new blood.” I said, releasing a belch as I said the last word. The twins laughed loudly. Aela gave me a playful nudge.

  
“There isn’t much to tell, really.” The girl said. “I just brawled with a man.”

  
Farkas gurgled in what I can only assume was laughter. “Come on, Lissa. Your lip’s all busted.” I liked the abbreviation of the girl’s name.

  
“Alright.” Lissa said. “I’ve never been in a real fist fight before this one, so it was definitely exhilarating. I walked into the Temple of Kynareth, asked for Acolyte Jenssen, and just walked right up to him. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, so I just punched him in the face. He tackled me and hit me back, but I managed to get the upper hand. I just punched him until he yielded.”

  
“And then?” Aela said, listening intently.

  
“I wasn’t sure what it was he did to earn the beating, so I just said ‘you know what to do.’ And he just said he would leave someone alone.” Lissa smiled sheepishly.

  
“He got the message then. Good work, kid.” I said to her, then really looked at the bruises on her face. Acolyte must have hit her as if she were a man. Her lip, as Farkas had noted, was busted in two different places, and her lower right jaw was turning a nasty yellow-purple color. I felt anger rupture in my chest. Nothing made me angrier than a man hitting a woman, no matter what the context. I composed myself before I spoke. “Your face is rough, though. I’ll train with you tomorrow. Can’t have you walking around looking like you can’t handle yourself.”

  
Her hand shot up to her face. “Is it that bad?”

  
Farkas and I nodded, but Vilkas shook his head. “It’s not that bad.” he said to her. Lissa nodded, seemingly relaxing. Most of the men here looked at her, seeing only a pretty warrior. Vilkas seemed irritated that she was here. Or maybe irritated that she was pretty. The boy was very confusing.

  
Lissa stood then. “I think I’ll retire for the evening. It’s been a long day.” She said, and we all nodded as she picked her bow up again. “I’ll see you in the morning, Skjor.”

  
“Good, good. Bright and early, mind you.” I said, turning back to the table. Both of the twins watched her with fixed gazes as she strode from the room.

  
I felt Aela kick Farkas and Vilkas under the table. Farkas cried out, but Vilkas kept watching. My huntress rolled her eyes. “Got your eyes on something?”

  
“She’s pretty.” Farkas said, blunt as always.

  
“Leave her be, boys.” I said to them. “Her arm matters, not her face.”

  
“But both are very good.” Farkas said, trying to figure out what Vilkas was looking at. He was staring toward the stairs, though Lissa was long gone.

  
“She has much to learn, Skjor. Good luck with her in the morning.” Vilkas grumbled.

  
“Must you always be in such a bad mood? Would it kill you to smile once in a while?” Aela said, flicking pieces of bread at Vilkas’ face.

  
Farkas reached out and caught a piece of bread before it hit Vilkas’ eye. “It would kill him.” he said as he popped the bread into his mouth.

  
I looked at my huntress, who shook her head as she forfeit the conversation. Her eyes met mine, and she gave me my favorite sideways grin of hers, entwining her fingers in mine under the table. I winked at her and gave her hand a squeeze, then turned back to the main room of Jorrvaskr. The Companions cluttered the halls of my home, surrounding us with noise and laughter the remainder of the evening.


	4. A New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas has a mission, but Skjor has made it very clear that he's only supposed to watch. There's a change of plans, though, when Karalissa finds herself in a trap.
> 
> POV: Farkas

It was morning, and Vilkas and I were sitting at the table in the mess hall. The rest of the Companions were either in the room with us or in the living quarters. Vilkas had spent most of the night before drinking and talking to Kodlak. He had a headache and wouldn’t pull his head off the table.

I hadn’t been drinking the night before. I had helped Skjor train with Lissa, just like he said he would. I watched for a while, but I had gotten bored. Skjor invited me to help, then he gave me a mission. Lissa and I had to leave today to find a piece of Wuuthrad. I made sure I didn’t drink with my brother. I wanted to spend the whole day talking to Lissa, and finding out everything about her. I was sure she would want someone to talk to. Most of the Companions just wanted to know why she was so pretty, and not why she was such a good fighter.

I was eating bread. A lot of bread. I wanted to go ahead and eat so Lissa and I could talk. Vilkas still had his head on the table, so I reached over and ate his bread too. Vilkas looked up rather quickly.

“By Talos, brother. How many times have I asked you not to eat my bread?” His voice was groggy, but he was being playful with me. The best part of being a twin is you can do whatever you want to your brother, and the worst he can do is be very angry. He can’t leave you because you’re half of him.

“You aren’t going to eat it anyway. Why let it spoil?” I asked him.

“But it’s not just this bread. It’s all my bread. No matter where I put it, you eat it.”

“I’ll stop eating it when you find a better place to hide it.” I said to him. My brother just grunted.

I was still eating bread when Lissa came into the room. I thought she’d sit with the other new blood, but she walked right up to me. I tried to swallow my bread, but it was still too dry. I chewed quickly.

“Remember to breathe, brother.” Vilkas said to me quietly.

Lissa pulled out the chair next to me and sat down as I swallowed the bread. “Hi, Lissa.” I said. Vilkas grunted again. “I hear we’re headed out. Skjor says I have to watch you.” I grabbed another piece of bread.

“That would be correct, Shield-Brother.” She smiled at me. Her face was purple in one spot, but it was going away. “Make sure you pack some bread. I don’t think you have enough there.”

I laughed. I could tell Vilkas thought it was funny too, but he didn’t make a sound. “Very funny.” I said. “Ready to go?”

“Whenever you are.”

“Let’s go then.” I pushed away from the table. Brushing bread crumbs off of my armor. I heard Vilkas grumble. He was probably going to say something mean.

“Watch after the girl, Farkas. Make sure she doesn’t get you killed.” He was jabbing at Lissa, but it was also his way of asking me to be safe. My brother and I had been with each other for twenty-six years, and we had never told each other to be careful.

I patted my brothers back with all of my strength, then leaned down to take the rest of his bread. “Whatever you say, brother.”

Lissa gave my brother a small wave, then followed me out of Jorrvaskr. I’d already packed and left my stuff outside. She was carrying her bag over her shoulder, along with her bow and arrows. I took the bag from her, carrying it for her. Lissa thanked me, and I smiled at her. I grabbed my bag too, then led the way to the gate.

Outside, I led her to the carriage. “We’re going to ride most of the way, then stop and walk.” I explained to her.

“Sounds fine to me.” She said. I extended my hand to help her in, then climbed in myself. I tossed the bags to the side, and ushered to the driver to move.

 

  
We were on the road for a long time, probably two or three hours, and we talked about things that weren’t very interesting to me. She wanted to know about the Companions: about the Companions before us, about the Companions that served Ysgramor personally. I had the information, but I wasn’t very good at delivering it. She was very patient with me, and she waited for me to finish what I was trying to say before she asked anything else.

Lissa was a lot like Vilkas in that way. My whole life, I’d known my brother was smarter than me. He’d read every book in Jorrvaskr, then every book in Whiterun. He knew a lot, but he never made me feel like I didn’t. He actually tried to make me feel really good for knowing anything. Lissa did the same.

“Farkas?”

I looked at her, stopping my thoughts. “Sorry, Lissa. Did you ask something?”

She laughed. “No. You just looked so far away.” The carriage hit a bump, and we both shook around. She almost fell off the bench, and we laughed.

“I’ve been right here.” I said.

She laughed quietly, then started digging around in her pack. “Any idea how much longer the ride will be?”

“Probably another hour. Not much longer.”

“Perfect.” She pulled out a red book. “I’ve been trying to finish this for a week. I can’t seem to find the time.” She smiled at me. “I packed two books, if you want to read the other.” She rummaged through her pack until she found the green book and handed it to me.

I shook my head. “No thanks.”

Her head turned slightly. Curious. “Not much of a reader?” She was still holding the book towards me.

I took the book from her and held it. It looked old. “No. Vilkas tried to teach me, but I’m not good at it. Sometimes the letters get mixed up. They turn into shapes or squiggles or other letters. Usually Vilkas just reads and then tells me about what happens.” I handed the book back to her. I thought she would think I was stupid, maybe feel bad for me like most people do.

Instead she just smiled. “Shapes and squiggles, huh?” Lissa opened up the book. Then she turned it around so I could see. She pointed to the page. “This letter, does it look like a bottle of mead?” I looked at the shape.

“It does. What letter is it?” I was very confused.

“It’s an ‘R’. A friend of mine had the same problem. He would get so angry that he couldn’t read what was on the page, but he desperately craved knowledge. He wanted to know everything. Marc threw such a fit one day that I just offered to read the damned book to him. Then I always read to him.” She closed the book and smiled. “We read every book in Riften together.”

“That was very nice of you.” I thought I was just bad at reading. I didn’t know other people could be too.

Lissa raised her eyebrow. “I could read to you too, if you’d like. This book is about slaying trolls. The best ways to do it.”

I got really excited. “I’d really like that. I hate trolls.”

Lissa smiled and moved to sit beside me. She opened the book to the first page, and began to read.

 

  
She read to me the rest of the carriage ride. When we finally stopped, she let me keep the book. I tabbed the page so we could keep reading later. We pulled our packs from the floor and I paid the driver. Then we started to walk to the Cairn.

“What happened to your friend?” I asked her.

She gave me a funny look. “What do you mean?”

“You said your friend ‘had’ the same problem as me. Not ‘has.’” I explained. Lissa laughed.

“I’m not sure why I said that. Marcurio is fine. He lives in Riften at the Bee and Barb.” She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to pull her hair from under her pack.

I lifted up her pack so she could pull her hair out. She smiled at me to say thank you. “Sorry. I just assumed.” I was sort of embarrassed.

Lissa laughed again. “No, no Farkas. It was a good catch. I guess I said it because we’re not friends anymore.”

“Is he why you left Riften?” I asked her, then thought about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind at all. I like talking to you.” She smiled at me. “He was part of the reason, I suppose. Before I came to Whiterun, I’d been barely getting by, hunting and sleeping and hunting and sleeping.”

“I think you belong with us. With the Companions.” I smiled at her, trying not to sound too creepy.

“Thank you, Farkas. I think so too, but I have to pass this test to prove it to everyone else, I guess.” She looked sad suddenly. “Your brother doesn’t like me very much, does he?”

I shook my head. “Vilkas likes you just fine. The other Companions think you’re pretty, not that you’re a good warrior. My brother and I know that you’re both. This will prove it.”

“Did Vilkas say that?”

“He didn’t have to. I know my brother better than he knows himself. I know a lot about everybody.”

“What do you know about me?” A grin appeared on her face.

I smiled back. “I know you want to belong somewhere. You haven’t felt like you belonged in a really long time. Probably because you didn’t feel like you belonged when you were little.”

She laughed quickly. “You’re very perceptive, Farkas. That’s horrifyingly…accurate.”

“It’s not hard. You’re just like my brother.” I shrugged. “Some people think I’m not smart. Those people get my fist. But you, I like.”

She gave me a playful nudge. “When did you join the Companions?”

“Vilkas and I have been at Jorrvaskr since we were little whelps. Our father, Jergen, raised us here. Even Vignar couldn’t remember Companions younger than us.”

“Your whole life then?” Lissa raised her eyebrows. “You and Vilkas must be as good as Ysgramor with a blade.”

I laughed. “Oh, we are.” I could see Dustman’s Cairn now. I pointed to it. “That’s it. We’re headed there.”

Lissa smiled. “Finally. Let’s get going.”

We walked to the Nord-made hole in the ground that led to the door. As we approached, I gestured for Lissa to lead. “This is your mission. I’m just supposed to watch.” She smiled and happily walked down the stairs.

Lissa pushed the door open, and we both walked into Dustman’s Cairn. Another set of stairs was on the other side of the door, and at the bottom was a room. A lot of the furniture and objects in the room had been overturned. There were papers and potions all over the floor, a dead giveaway that we weren’t alone.

“Looks like someone’s been digging here. And recently.” I said to her. “Tread lightly.” She nodded and picked up a few potions, but she walked on.

Down another set of stairs, then into a curving hallway. Lissa was a few feet ahead of me, but she suddenly stopped. Looking over her shoulder at me, she nodded toward the room ahead of her.

“We’ve got company.” she said, and I followed her gaze to the tombs used for draugr. They stood straight up so that they could pop out at bandits.

“Be careful around those burial stones.” I gave her playful nudge. “I don’t want to haul you back to Jorrvaskr on my back.”

Lissa snorted. “Same to you, Farkas.”

“You couldn’t carry me if you tried.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t make me prove you wrong.” Lissa pulled her bow off of her shoulders, and I readied my greatsword as we moved into the room.

Two draugr were waiting for us. The first swung its ancient axe, and Lissa dodged underneath and aimed an arrow at the second. I took a few swings at the first draugr, but I mainly blocked. I wanted to see Lissa fight.

Lissa used one arrow to take down both draugr, and very nearly escaped a good chopping. Once they were down, she gave me a hard look. I’m sure she meant to be scary, but she wasn’t.

“Thanks for the help, Shield-Brother.” She pulled the arrows out of the draugr’s eyes.

“Just watching, Sister. Only supposed to help if you need me. Clearly, you don’t.” I smiled when she did too. Up ahead, we heard the groans of more draugr.

“Spoke too soon.” Lissa said, grinning widely.

Three more draugr came around the corner, and very fast. One came right at me, and two at Lissa. I saw her kill one before an ugly one came a little too close to me. I sliced it half pretty quick, and just in time to see the end of Lissa’s fight with the last one.

We pushed on, and through another wooden door, there was a hallway that led to a set of stairs. We walked down them.

“A lot of stairs here.” I said to her.

“Yeah. We must be pretty deep.” At the base of the stairs, we both looked around. The room was very big, and there were a lot of rooms to search. Lissa called to me as I began to search one cove. “I’ll look over here.”

I nodded and opened a chest in the corner. I dug around for the piece of Wuuthrad, but it wasn’t there. Right as I was about to stand, I heard a slamming. I looked around for Lissa, hoping she wasn’t hurt.

“Farkas!” I heard her call for me from the corner. She was behind iron bars, trapped in a room with a lever. She looked so embarrassed, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Lissa groaned and pointed at the lever. “It’s stuck.”

“No worries. Sit tight. I’ll go find the release.”

Suddenly, there was a voice behind me. “It’s time to die, dog.” I turned around to see a group of men and women with their weapons drawn. Their war paint was for the Silver Hand.

“We knew you were coming here. Your mistake, Companion.”

“Which one is that?” A woman asked.

I was so confused. How did they find us? Were they following us? “It doesn’t matter.” He pointed to my gauntlets. “He wears that armor, he dies.”

“Killing you will make for an excellent story.”

I felt my body shaking violently. “None of you will be alive to tell it.” I grumbled, before the bones in my legs cracked and expanded, followed quickly by my arms. I felt my armor rip and fly from my body. Fur grew on my skin, and my face stretched into a wolf’s snout, the most painful part. It was a quick transformation, and very painful. I was worried that they would hurt Lissa, so I had to be fast.

As I stood in my new form, I let out a howl, terrifying the Silver Hand. I swung at them with my large wolf hands, throwing them against walls, then hopping on top of them and mauling. Their blood flew as they tried to escape, but none of them did. There would be no stories today.

Once all of them were dead, I remembered Lissa. I kicked one of the Silver Hand with me as I ran around the corner into a separate room. My bloodlust ended, and I shifted back into my own body. Once I hand Nord hands again, I quickly took the dead man’s armor, very similar to my own, and covered myself. Then I found the release to Lissa’s trap.

I walked back to her slowly. She was walking out of the trap. Her face showed that she was scared of me, but she still came up to me. She pretended not to be afraid.

It was quiet for a moment, then she said. “Wow.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I hope I didn’t scare ya.”

“No, you didn’t scare me. You saved me.” She shook her head. “What was that?”

“It’s a blessing given to some of us. Makes us like wild beasts.” I shrugged. “Fearsome.”

Her eyes got wide. “You’re going to make me a werewolf?”

I laughed. “Oh, no. Only the Circle have the beast blood. Prove your honor to be a Companion.”

“All of the members of the Circle are werewolves?”

I nodded, but I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “We should keep moving. Still the draugr to worry about.” She didn’t seem happy with that. “Tell you what. Let’s finish this mission, then you can ask any questions you want.”

“Sounds fair.” Lissa nodded. “Let’s go.”


	5. A New Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting through Dustman's Cairn, Karalissa returns to Jorrvaskr with Farkas, where the Circle is waiting for her. Later, Karalissa and Vilkas spend the day together.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

It didn’t take much longer to get through the rest of the Cairn. There were more draugr to worry about, but Farkas was particularly disturbed by the Silver Hand still lurking within that had already finished them off. We didn’t walk very far after Farkas released me from the trap before we encountered more wolf hunters.

Two waited for us at the base of the stairs. Now that Farkas knew that they were here, he didn’t hesitate or let me take the kills. The rest of the Cairn was cluttered with them throughout. It wasn’t very difficult to take them down, though. They dressed like common bandits, and their armor wasn’t very protective.

When we got to Dustman’s Crypt, though, we had a little more on our hands than we expected. A coven of frostbite spiders disturbed Farkas on an even deeper level. He watched as they dropped from the ceiling and spit at us from across the room. He never even swung his sword, just stood beside me as I fired arrows.

When we finally found the piece of Wuuthrad, Farkas was so thrilled. Partly because he was ready to get out of the cave, but mostly because he was holding a piece of Ysgramor’s weapon. We packed it away, and found our way out.

We walked all the way to Jorrvaskr after that. We didn’t say much for a while, both of us caught up in our own thoughts. Farkas seemed completely drained of both energy and enthusiasm.

“Do you want to stop and rest?” I asked him. I pointed to the river that ran along the path. Farkas just nodded, and we headed to the water’s edge to sit. As I hit the ground, I pulled off my cloth boots and put my feet in the water. Farkas didn’t sit straight for very long before he flopped on his back and covered his eyes with his elbow.

We sat in silence for a moment, then I asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Farkas grumbled, but he answered anyway. “The Silver Hand. They were hunting us.” He looked at me, then covered his eyes again. “Well, not us, I guess. Just me.”

“What do they want?”

“The Silver Hand are werewolf hunters. They want us dead. We haven’t seen them in a while. I thought we would be safe. Thought I could let my guard down. It was dumb.”

“You’re not dumb.” I told him, laying back in the grass beside him. “They snuck up on us. It could have happened to anyone.”

“Not to Vilkas. He would have sensed them coming. And he wouldn’t have let you get caught in a trap.” His eyes were still covered, shielding them from the sun.

“That was my own fault, Farkas. You shouldn’t compare yourself to your brother.” I folded my hands across my stomach.

“The spiders are bothering me.”

I shivered. “I don’t blame you. There’s something wrong with them. Too many eyes, I think.”

“Yeah.” Farkas uncovered his eyes and nodded. “Too many eyes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a werewolf?” I asked him.

Farkas turned his dirty face toward me. “None of the whelps are supposed to know. Only members of the Circle.”

“What’s it like?” I wanted to know everything about it.

Farkas thought for a moment. “It’s nice sometimes. Our senses are heightened. We can see animals and the heat they give off, even in the dark. In a way, we’re the perfect hunters.”

“It sounds very…useful.” I said.

“Well, it’s bad, too.” Farkas looked back up at the sky. “You never sleep well, so you’re always tired. The beast inside of me is always howling. It wants to transform, to hunt, even when I don’t want to.” He looked back at me. “I’m probably going to be in trouble. Not supposed to change anymore.”

“You did what was necessary.”

“Maybe.” Farkas stood up, and extended his hand to pull me to my feet. “Come on. Gotta head back home.”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
As we climbed the steps of Jorrvaskr, Vilkas stood on the top step. He was leaning against the wooden post, waiting for us.

“About time.” He said. Farkas stood behind me, waiting for his brother to do the talking. “Did you retrieve the fragment?”

I pulled the piece from my pack and handed it to him. He held it gently in his hand, then looked at me, his lips twisted into his usual scowl. His eyes were soft though, giving away that he was happy.

“Follow me, both of you.” He gave his brother a hard look, then gestured toward the pathway leading behind Jorrvaskr.

I walked ahead of the two, and I heard Vilkas inhale deeply behind me. “You had an interesting trip, didn’t you brother?”

“A story for later.” Farkas said. “This is more important.”

We reached the courtyard, and I could see Kodlak, Aela, and Skjor waiting for us. I looked back at the twins and smiled. Farkas beamed at me, and Vilkas’ mouth twisted into what can only be described as a less-menacing scowl. They both took spots on the other side of Kodlak, leaving him in the middle.

Kodlak spoke first. “Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul to our mortal foil.” He looked at me and smiled. “This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor. Who will speak for her?”

Farkas stepped forward a little. “I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us.”

Kodlak spoke to Farkas, but kept his eyes on me. “Would you raise a shield in her defense?”

Farkas nodded. “I would stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us.”

“And would you raise your sword in her honor?”

“It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes.”

Kodlak nodded. “And would you raise a mug in her name?”

Farkas laughed. “I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories.” Vilkas snorted beside him, and I shot him a challenging look, which he just rolled his eyes at.

Kodlak ignored our squabble. “Then the judgement of this Circle is complete. Her heart beats with the fury and courage that has united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, which the mountains may echo and the enemies may tremble at our call.”

The four warriors on his sides nodded, then said in union, “It shall be so.” They gave me some applause, and I tried to contain my silly grin, but I couldn’t.

Kodlak stepped toward me. “Well, my girl, you’re one of us now. I trust you won’t disappoint.”

“Of course. Thank you, Kodlak.” I extended my hand to him, shaking it eagerly.

“Alright, alright. Talk to the Companion leaders for work. You’ll start tomorrow.” He disconnected our hands, then headed toward the doors of Jorrvaskr. I stood outside, watching the Circle trickle inside, no doubt to discuss the fact that I now knew their greatest secret. I stayed for a while after the rest of them had gone inside, watching the sun set and anticipating what my near future would bring.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
I woke early in the morning as the weeks passed, before the other whelps were even close to rising. On this morning, I washed my face quickly, dressed in some comfortable, dark leather armor and my cloth boots. They had their perks, being quiet and easy to move in, but I really just liked them because they felt like I was getting away with slippers in public. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, eager to have it away from my face, and set out to run my errands.

It was just a quick walk from the new blood’s quarters to stairs leading to the mess hall. I tiptoed out into the open, and I noticed that there was not a sole in the large room. Not even Tilma was awake, and she was usually up cooking before the rest of us even knew we were hungry.

I walked to the large table arrangement, scanning the leftover food and drinks. I picked up a random tankard filled with water and drank it quickly, then picked an apple off of the table and bounced toward the door.

Outside, the sun had just risen. I could hear the shopkeepers opening up just past the steps below me, and I could smell Eorland warming up the Skyforge. I dropped my satchel on the ground near my feet and leaned against the large wooden post by the steps, supporting my weight against my left shoulder. I took a few bites of my apple as I watched the people of Whiterun scatter about in the early hours of their day.

“You’re up early.”

I nearly choked on my apple as I jumped at the sound of his voice. I hadn’t even noticed him leaning on the walls of Jorrvaskr next to the door.

“Talos’ beard, Vilkas. You scared me.” I laughed, trying to lower my heartrate, now raising from my surprised state.

Vilkas laughed beneath unsmiling lips. “Sorry.” He ran a hand over his scruffy cheeks, then walked toward me. He stood next to me, looking out at Whiterun with me. “It’s nice to watch them go about their business.”

I looked up at him, taking another bite of my apple. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I forget that there are other people, you know? I get so involved in my own troubles, I forget that there are other people out here with their own struggles, their own burdens. It’s nice to be reminded.” He shrugged again, but I reveled in the fact that this was the most he’d said to me since I’d met him. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I usually wake around this time.” I said as I tossed my apple core in the grass nearby. “I like to take care of all of my errands before I actually do anything important.”

Vilkas snickered. “How many errands could you possibly have, Kara?” I enjoyed that he called me ‘Kara’ and not ‘Lissa’ like the rest of the Companions. Not that I didn’t enjoy either, but ‘Lissa’ sounded like a child’s nickname.

I gave him a sideways grin. “You’d be surprised. I’m a very busy woman.” I leaned over to pick up my satchel, then hoisted it over my shoulder. “Want to accompany me? Or do you have better things to do?”

Vilkas shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I do have reason to visit some of the shops. I guess I could tag along.”

I smiled at him. “Great. Just don’t slow me down, grumpy.”

Vilkas laughed genuinely, smiling a little. “Easy, little girl. Don’t make me angry.”

We walked down the steps and out into the courtyard beneath the Gildergreen. Heimskr was walking toward his spot in front of the shrine of Talos, and I felt a pang of sadness in my heart as we passed him and headed toward the steps.

I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts of Riften. I looked up at Vilkas. “You know, I’ve never seen you smile before a moment ago.”

He snorted. “Yeah, you smile enough for the both of us.” He laughed again. “If I’m grumpy, you’re smiley.”

I laughed a little too loudly. “Then you can be grumpy for the both of us. Talos knows you can manage.” We continued down the steps, then approached the well in the center of the marketplace.

“What errands are we running?” Vilkas asked with a grin.

“I need to visit Belethor in the General Goods store and Arcadia’s Cauldron.”

Vilkas snickered again. “Neither of those shops will be open for a few more hours.”

“Oh.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I was kind of embarrassed. I’d gotten Vilkas all the way out here, and now I didn’t have anything to occupy him.

“I have something I could show you, if you’re up for it.” Vilkas offered.

“What is it?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. “Follow me.” I followed him back up the steps, then to the left, across from Jorrvaskr. We passed the houses of Gray-Mane and Battle-Born, all the way to a ledge on the wall of Whiterun. Vilkas extended his arms, showing off his secluded arena. “This is it. One of the only places in Whiterun a Nord can get some peace and quiet.” Over the edge, you could see the fields of Skyrim, and the sky above us was a brilliant shade of blue as the sun finished rising.

“Very nice, Vilkas.” I hopped up onto the ledge, facing the fields with my legs hanging over the ledge. Vilkas leaned against the edge next to me, supporting himself on his crossed arms. “When did you find this?”

“Oh, when I was eleven or so. I was desperate to find a quiet place that Farkas would never dream of finding.”

I laughed. “Farkas said you two grew up here. That must have been nice.”

Vilkas’ smile faded. “To hear Farkas tell it, our father raised us here as happy pups, running around biting knees. I love my brother, but his brains are not his strong suit. We were brought here by Jergen. Whether he was our father or not, I don’t care. He left to fight in the Great War and never came back. So he’s not my problem anymore.” He took a few breaths and swallowed, trying to compose himself. “And your family?”

“My mother lives in Solitude with her husband. He runs the Bard’s College. I lived with my brother for a while, but we were caught in an Imperial ambush. We were separated.” I shifted on the ledge. “I haven’t seen him since.”

Vilkas grunted, seeming to accept the amount of information I was giving him. “Your work for the Companion Leaders, it’s going well?”

I laughed. “Oh yes. I need to practice more, though. I feel like I’m too slow.”

“That comes with time.” Vilkas looked at me then. “I understand that you know about the beast now.”

I swallowed. I had been thinking about it a lot, actually. Seeing Farkas in his wolf form weeks ago was one thing. I felt frightened at first, but I knew Farkas was a gentle person, someone who wouldn’t hurt me. I trusted the rest of the Circle, but I had no idea how they behaved when they weren’t…themselves.

The part that was the most odd to me was that no one had spoken about it to me, not even Farkas. At first, I assumed we were pretending it didn’t happen. But soon enough, the way the members of the Circle began to speak to me was different than the rest of the whelps. They talked as if I knew a secret I wasn’t supposed to. Like they had caught me doing something I shouldn’t.

“I do, yes.”

“You haven’t said anything about it in the time since you saw Farkas transform.” Vilkas was still looking at me, trying to understand me.

“I didn’t think it was my place to talk about it.”

“You’re right, Kara. It’s not.” Vilkas shifted his weight between his feet, seeming to relax. “But I assume you have questions, and I can answer them, if you’d like.”

I thought for a moment, trying to determine whether or not this was a test. “You’ve barely spoken to me since I joined the Companions. Why start now?”

Vilkas looked at me for a moment, then looked away. “Farkas told me about your service to him on your trip to Dustman’s Cairn. You read to him, and didn’t make him feel left out for not being able to.” He folded his arms across his chest. “The least I can do is answer some questions.”

“Okay, Vilkas.” I spent a moment in thought. “Not all of the Companions are werewolves.”

Vilkas shook his head. “No. Just members of the Circle.”

“How long have you been..?”

“My brother and I were given the blood about eight years ago, when we were eighteen.”

“Farkas said it’s problematic, in a way. That you can’t sleep.”

Vilkas nodded. “It’s not a blessing. It’s a curse, to me. I never get a good night’s rest. It’s hard to think straight. Hard to control.”

“It has perks, though.”

“None that outnumber the negatives. Skjor and Aela will tell you differently. They believe it is a blessing, and we should enjoy the gift.” He shook his head. “To each their own, I suppose.”

“Thank you, Vilkas.”

Vilkas grunted. “You can come to me with any questions. I know our history almost as well as Vignar by now.” He laughed again. “Except I can remember it.”

I laughed too, rising to my feet. “Come on, grumpy. Let’s run some errands.”  
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
Not long after we left the seclusion of Vilkas’ hideaway, we had finished the errands we needed to run and were on our way back to Jorrvaskr. We had made small talk about small things, and we were actually laughing and telling jokes as we climbed the steps of Jorrvaskr.

Skjor stood on the top step, waiting for us. “There you two are.” He looked at Vilkas. “I was beginning to worry.”

Vilkas rolled his eyes. “Please, spare me your humor Skjor. What can I do for you?”

Skjor raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I was looking for Lissa.”

Vilkas and Skjor stared at each other a moment. Vilkas looked almost challenging, but ultimately, he dismissed himself. I stood a step below Skjor, looking up at him.  
“What is it?” I asked, beginning to worry.

“I want to show you something. The huntress and I think you’ll like it.”


	6. A New Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skjor has offered Karalissa a taste of the blood, and with it comes a taste of the world he and his huntress know and love. Will Karalissa accept?
> 
> POV: Skjor

I stood with a torch outside of the underforge. It was dark, well past the mid hours of the night. All of Jorrvaskr was asleep in a drunken stupor, all part of my huntress’ plan to make sure there would be no witnesses. She had started a drinking contest between the whelps and the Circle, a contest we purposefully lost. Now that they were all under the mead’s heavy slumber, we could work.

I had no doubt that Vilkas was awake somewhere in the halls, probably in Kodlak’s chambers, waiting to feel it. The new addition. The new blood. It was her choice, and we would allow her to make her own decisions.

I heard the doors of Jorrvaskr creak open and shut quietly, followed by even quieter footsteps. The girl rounded the corner and approached me in her cloth boots.

“Good evening, Skjor.” She smiled at me, though she seemed very confused. I hadn’t given her much information, just told her to meet me here.

“Hello, Lissa. Are you prepared?”

“I’m not sure what to be prepared for, but I’m ready for whatever test is next.”

I laughed quietly. “This is no test, new blood. This is a gift. Follow me, kid.” I opened the door to the underforge, disguised as another rock slab that supported Eorland’s Skyforge. We stepped inside, and I said to her, “Don’t be frightened. Just relax.”

We descended the stone hallway that led to the main room. Once we entered, my huntress stood before the cauldron in the center, large and furry in her wolf form. Lissa stopped moving when she saw her.

“I would hope you recognize Aela, even in this form.” Lissa’s face wasn’t frightened as much as it was genuinely curious. “She’s agreed to be your forebear.”

Lissa nodded, looking unsure. “Are we allowed to be doing this?”

I laughed, placing my hand on her shoulder. “We do this in secret because Kodlak is too busy trying to throw away this great gift we’ve been granted. He thinks we’ve been cursed, but we’ve been blessed. How can something that gives us this kind of prowess be a curse?” I released her, and walked toward Aela. “So, we take matters into our own hands. To reach the heights of the Companions, to join the Circle, you must join us with the shared blood of the wolf.”

Lissa looked between me and Aela, who towered over me now. She seemed overwhelmed. 

“I know you already knew us to be wolves, Lissa. Farkas let the cat out of the bag. Or, should I say dog?” The huntress growled in laughter beside me. I rubbed the back of her neck before continuing. “This is your choice, not ours. You are free to leave at any time.” The huntress nodded, unable to speak in her form, but agreeing with me still. “Now, are you prepared to join your spirit with the beast world, friend?”

“Will it hurt?”

I looked at Aela, who sort of shrugged. “Well, it will. But odds are you won’t remember it, kid.”

Lissa looked at us both again, then spoke. “I’m ready.”

I smiled, and the huntress growled in approval. “Very well.” I took the huntress’ hand, kissing it before I pulled a blade to carve a slit in her arm. Her blood drained into the cauldron between Lissa and us. Aela healed quickly, her blood flow stopping. I looked at Lissa. “Drink when you’re ready.”

The girl stepped forward, looking sick. No doubt her stomach was turning at the thought of drinking blood. Everyone’s does at first. Even still, the small Nord leaned down into the cauldron, using her hand to collect some blood and drink. She looked at us for a moment, then her eyes rolled back into her head as she hit the floor. 

It wasn’t a hard fall, thankfully. Aela and I watched as she writhed around, twitching in pain as the beast blood coursed through her veins. My huntress seemed uncomfortable, watching the girl groan and roll around in pain, but I put my hand on her neck, trying to comfort her. This was the first turning Aela had seen. Though she wasn’t the most recent to turn, she wasn’t present at the twin’s rebirth. Even so, we had not turned anyone in almost nine years.

Lissa’s bones began to snap, breaking and reforming as the beast took control of her body. We watched as her face stretched into a snout, her fur a dark black color, very similar to Aela. She stood then, fully transformed, looking at us for instructions. She was panting heavily, her thirst overpowering her. 

“You have to hunt, kid. We’ll show you how.” I opened the underforge, and Aela ran out, guiding Lissa to the secret path to Skyrim from the underforge.

I ran behind the wolves as fast as I could, running beside them to the woods. Once we were under the cover of the trees, I too transformed into the reddish-brown wolf form I carried under my skin. Lissa was losing her mind, killing rabbits and goats in the forest, chasing them around and catching them quickly.

I looked at my huntress, who bumped my nose with hers, then nodded for me to follow with her behind the girl, and begin the night’s hunt.


	7. New Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa is still reeling from her first transformation, but Aela insists they need to press forward. While following after Skjor, Karalissa must adjust to her new abilities.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple character deaths, major and minor; possibly triggering; read at your own will.

I woke in the white fields of Skyrim, somewhere far from Jorrvaskr, by the smell of it. I shivered against the ice beneath my new skin, my sense of touch heightened now. It was dark, but I could see everything as if it were high noon.

Using my elbows to prop myself up, I looked around for some familiarity. Aela stood several feet away from me, staring at me.

“Are you awake?” she asked, looking away from me and toward a small light source in the distance.

“I think so.” I told her, bringing myself to my feet. “I can’t remember anything.”

She laughed. “You never will. Yours was not an easy transformation, but you’re alive. So congratulations. We even have a celebration planned for you.”

“A celebration?”

“There’s a pack of werewolf hunters camped nearby at Gallows Rock. The Silver Hand. I believe you’ve met them before.” She raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to slaughter them.”

The blood in my veins pulsed at the thought. The beast wanted blood. “Oh, yes. I remember them.” I looked around. “Where’s Skjor?”

“Skjor’s already scouting ahead.” She gestured toward the fort, suddenly looking uneasy. “I’d like to hurry and catch up with him. Lead on, Lissa.”

I nodded, picking my bow up from the ground beside me. We walked toward the fort, trudging through the snow with great effort. I regretted wearing my cloth boots then, which had been placed on my now soaked and cold feet. I took a moment to wonder how I came to be back in my clothes, since I recall them being destroyed in my transformation. 

Once we arrived outside, bodies of fallen Silver Hand were scattered about, a sign that was rather comforting to Aela. That meant Skjor was inside, and he had made it past them with no trouble. It was so odd, to be able to feel the emotions she was feeling.

I pushed the door open, but neither of us were prepared for what waited inside. In the very first room, the heads of wolves on stakes greeted us, perched on either side of a gated door.

Aela scoffed behind me. “Look at this. Cowards must have locked the place down when Skjor charged in.”

I nodded. “You can taste the fear.”

She grinned at me. “Welcome to the beast world, Lissa. It’s exhilarating, isn’t it? You can smell and taste everything.”

“But especially the emotions. Everyone, including yours.” I looked at her, hungry for answers.

She turned her head to the side, just slightly, confused. “Really?” She shrugged then. “The gift is different for everyone, I suppose.”

Her eyes held many questions, but we both pressed on, eager to catch up to Skjor. Down the steps, two members of the Silver Hand waited for us. Aela and I both drew arrows, hitting both of them in the neck at the same time. Upon walking down the stairs, I opened a door. The look of horror on my face must have been too prominent, as I stared at the corpse suspended from the ceiling by its arm.

“There’s a dead one in there, isn’t there?” I nodded to her as she spoke. “Thought so. Not anyone we know by the smell.”

“I didn’t know there were others.” I said, my lungs filling with the scent of confusion. This wolf did not know why he was being tortured.

“Oh yes, some can’t separate the animal from themselves. Go feral. This poor sod could have been anyone.”

“It’s sad.” I said, before I closed the door. “We should keep moving.”

“Lead on, Shield-Sister.” Aela nodded toward the door to her right. I tried it, but it was locked. I tried the next one, which opened easily. Inside, we walked down a long hallway before I stopped, inhaling deeply. Beyond me, perhaps fifteen feet and around a corner, the scent of wet fur and digested cheese loomed.

“Skeever.” I said, nodding toward the hallway’s extension.

Aela groaned. “Dammit, Skjor.” At my confused look, she explained. “I hate Skeever. Giant rats terrify me. He left them on purpose.” I could feel Aela’s relief, though she complained. This meant Skjor was alive enough to toy with her.

“I’ll deal with them.” I said, grinning. Aela winced as they rounded the corner, and bounced around so she didn’t have to look at them directly. When I had killed them all, she tiptoed past the corpses.

“The best kind of rat is a dead rat.” she mumbled, and I laughed in agreement.

We didn’t have to walk much further to find more Silver Hand, looking down at dead members. Aela and I were both quiet, knocking arrows and releasing them quickly and surely. We walked through the room, passing cells in disgust at the dead wolves cluttered within them. 

We passed through several rooms filled with dead Silver Hand and dead wolves, but eventually, we approached a large door. 

I could taste acknowledgement, a sure sign that someone was expecting us. On top of that, though, I could sense accomplishment. Whoever waited for us within felt a pride I couldn’t understand. Aela nodded to me, urging me to open the door anyway.

Inside, four men waited, weapons drawn. Aela pulled a blade from her hip, and I readied my bow, pulling an arrow against the tightly drawn string.

My vision slowed, a red aura forming around each target. Two smaller men advanced first, and I easily took them out with two well placed arrows to the eye. Aela rushed toward one of the men, closer to her. I felt a presence run toward me, but I turned in time to stab him with an arrow I’d pulled from my back, and he hit the floor with a thud.

I’d thought the fight was over, and turned to watch Aela. Only then, I heard a weapon unsheathe behind me. I turned quickly, greeted by the face of a man who had no emotions, perhaps the reason I didn’t sense him before just then. It was like being chased by a phantom. 

His dagger met my face before I could think to pull an arrow, or even dodge the blow. A sharp pain shot through my right eye, and I cried out. My hand flew to my face as I staggered backwards. My heel hit something, a chair maybe, and I fell backwards, hitting the back of my neck on the edge of an overturned table.

My vision was blurry in the eye I could still see out of, but I could make out the form of the man jumping on top of me, his blade ready to sink into me. I managed to swing my arm hard enough to knock the blade away from him, but he was quick to recoil. I felt his hands snake around my throat, cutting off the air flowing to my lungs as he slammed my head repeatedly against the stone ground.

I felt myself slipping into darkness as he delivered two final blows to my head. The last sound I heard was Aela’s scream. 

Then, it was very quiet.  
_________________________________________________________________________________  
I woke in a field for the second time that night, lush green grass cushioning me as I roused from my sleep. I observed the night sky above me, brushed with shades of blues and purples in astronomical illustrations that I had never gazed upon before that very moment. 

I heard the cries of elk in the woods surrounding me, felt the terror in their minds before they went blank in death. I rose from the ground, looking toward the sound. I could feel other presences here, but I couldn’t understand why they felt so ghostly.

A goat dashed past me, followed closely by a man wearing a scent that was all too familiar. He leapt through the air, tackling the goat and ripping out its throat with his teeth. Once he stood, he looked at me, blood running down his chin and soaking his armor. He stared at me for a moment, a breeze pushing his scent toward me. As he ran off, I recognized him as the wolf that was suspended from the roof of a closet in Gallows Rock. 

The soil beneath me shook, the movement reverberating through each of my individual bones. I looked behind me, and tilted my head to see the face of the fifty foot creature that towered over me. He had the body of a man, but his head was not that of a mortal. With antlers spouting from either side of his skeleton face, and a large wolf at his side, I recognized him as Hircine, the Prince of the Hunt, and the creator of lycanthropy.

He looked down at me, and I could sense that I was unwelcome in his presence. I took off running into the woods, searching for an escape. I was in the Hunting Grounds, so I must be dead. Had I been killed? I didn’t want to die, not now. Not here.

A figure collided with me, grabbing me by the shoulders and stopping my movement. I tried not to look at the man, his gray ponytail swishing behind him as I struggled against his familiar arms.

“Lissa, look at me.” he said. I met his gaze, recognizing his war paint and solitary eye.

“Skjor? What are you doing here?”

He released his tight grip, but left one hand on my shoulder. “I died, kid. I shouldn’t have gone ahead.” He looked away, tears in his eyes. “Aela was right. I left her all alone out there.”

“This is the Hunting Grounds, Skjor. Why are we here? Where is Sovngarde?” 

He put his hands on either side of my face. “This is where we go, Lissa. This is where you’ll go too, now that Hircine’s blood pumps through your veins.” He shook his head. “But you’re not supposed to be here. You aren’t dead.”

“I’m not?” I could feel my own fear radiating from me.

“No, you’re not. It’s not your time. You have to go back.” He released my face, and I felt a pounding against my chest. 

I gripped at his armored torso, trying to hold onto him. “Skjor, what about you?”

“I can’t go back, kid. I belong here, with Hircine.” He pushed my hands away from him. “Go back to Skyrim, back to life.” He touched my face one last time. “Tell my huntress I’m sorry, and I love her.”

I fought against the force pulling me back. “Skjor!”

“Go, Lissa! Get out of here!” he screamed, wolves running up behind him. I watched as he transformed, then ran away with them, howling in harmonized pitch. My lungs filled with exhaled air as I faded again into the darkness that engulfed me.


	8. A Moment of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela has to work quickly to save Karalissa.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

The most vivid night of my life, one I remember minute by minute, second by second, breath by breath.

I watched as Krev the Skinner pounded her head against the floor, his hands at her throat, strangling her as her beat her. She looked so small beneath him, limp and delicate. 

I ran at him, screaming wildly. I remember colliding with him, knocking him off of Lissa and stabbing him repeatedly in the chest. Once he had perished, I crawled toward Lissa, my ear close enough to her lips to hear silence. Her chest did not move with rhythmic inhalation, and my highly attuned ears heard no beating heart. I shook her, trying to wake her. Then, realizing how foolish that was, I began to pump her chest with closed hands in an attempt to bring her back. At no response to my attempts to save her, I breathed into her, trying to latch onto any string of life left within her.

Lissa inhaled sharply, her eyes popping open. She sat up abruptly, nearly knocking me over as she fought for breath around the fit of coughing that followed her revival. I patted her back, trying to help her extract whatever was caught in her throat. Her entire face was covered in blood, plastering her hair to her bruised neck and staining her armor.

She looked at me, her eyes wild with fear. I put my hands on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She said, her voice raspy. Blood was still dripping from her face, covering the entire right side of her torso. She noticed me staring, and her hand shot to her face, pressing against the wound. “I’m fine.” she repeated to me.

“Can you walk?” I stood, then extended a hand to help her up. “We have to find Skjor.” I looked around frantically, beginning to walk toward the door. Lissa’s hand held mine, stopping me from walking.

I looked back at her, the eye I could see boring into me. “Aela, I was with Skjor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In the Hunting Grounds. I was there.” She choked the words out, her voice unrecognizable, no doubt damaged by Krev’s grasp. “Skjor sent me back.”

“I don’t understand—” I began. It didn’t make any sense. Skjor was here, waiting to lead some extravagant scene about how he was saved by the new blood of Hircine.

That’s when I saw it, a flash of silver armor in the corner. Lissa saw it too, the flames of the room dancing in its reflection. My smile faded as I collected my thoughts, took in the scene before me. We walked toward it, slowly.

The first thing I felt was denial. Get up Skjor, stop playing around. This is as bad as the Skeever. You’re not funny. End this joke.

Then I saw the blood, so much blood covering his limp body. His chest did not move with rhythmic inhalation, and my highly attuned ears heard no beating heart. In his good eye, I saw no fear. Just death.

Next, I was angry. “He should not have come without a Shield-Sibling. Why did I let him go? He was the best of us, but numbers can overwhelm. How could I be so stupid?” I fell to my knees beside him, closing his eyes with my fingertips, so angry with him.

“Aela…” Lissa said behind me. I felt her hand on my shoulder. “He wanted me to tell you—”

I jerked away from her, “Get out of here, Lissa. Just go.” I laid on the ground beside him, resting my head against his cold chest.

“No, Aela. I won’t leave you.”

Then, all I felt was numbness. A heaviness in my soul that prevented me from thinking about anything but our time not even an hour ago, in the snow covered fields. “Just leave us.” I said to her, unable to cry, to breathe. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was Lissa lower herself to the ground across from me, one hand pressed firmly against the deep gash over her eye, still pouring blood.

Finally, I felt it. The deep, cold blackness of sorrow.  
____________________________________________________________________________________  
I sat in the snow with Skjor, Lissa’s unconscious body lying in front of us. We had guided her all the way to Gallows Rock, the fortress of the Silver Hand.

Lissa’s body was limp, and covered in blood. She had slaughtered countless animals in the woods, and all Skjor and I did was watch. It was the first time either of us had transformed and not hunted. Watching the new blood hunt was enough, her already heightened senses reaching their peak. 

The night was cold, but with Skjor’s arm around me I was warm. He was looking up at the sky, and not at the girl.

“This has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.” He looked at me then. “And I’m glad I could share it with you.”

“As am I.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, glad we were unseen by anyone but the moon. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Ah, but you were the exact same, Aela. So graceful, but so eager. I remember it perfectly.”

“Enlighten me, Skjor, because I do not.”

He laughed, his shoulder shaking beneath my cheek. “You drank my blood, very willingly, I’m sure you remember.” I nodded. “When you transformed, we didn’t have to guide you. You just took off into the night, slaughtering anything with a pulse. While it wasn’t your most graceful hunt, it was captivating.” He looked back up at the sky. “That was the night I fell in love with you.”

I felt my heart swell, but I tried to remain level headed and not express anything but humor. “Oh, Skjor, I knew you were attracted to furry women. Perhaps I’ll grow a beard. Would you like that?”

“I would, yes. Long enough to braid, mind you. I’ll settle for nothing less.”

We both laughed, softly but audibly. I looked down at Lissa again. “She should be awake now, shouldn’t she?”

Skjor shrugged. “It takes some time. Be patient, Aela.” He stood then, brushing the snow off of his armor. “I think I’ll travel ahead of you, go ahead and take some of the Silver Hand down. Make your job a little easier.”

I stood quickly, shaking my head. “No. We don’t travel without Shield-Siblings.”

Skjor rolled his eyes. “Come now, Aela, what would make for a better story? The three of us waltz in together, you and I watch the girl kill, blah blah blah. Or, Lissa kicks open the door in time to see me ready to face Krev the Skinner, only to ‘save me’ from ultimate peril. She’ll be the hero, and honestly, I think she could use the confidence boost. The girl is as bad as Vilkas, thinking she’s not good enough.”

I pursed my lips. “Skjor, I don’t like this. We never separate.”

He closed the distance between us, and placed his strong hands on either side of my face. “I’ll be fine, Aela. You know I will.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Come on, let an old man have some fun.” He kissed me then, his lips soft against mine. As he pulled away from me, he kissed my nose and forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” I said, though I wasn’t alright with it at all. “Promise you’ll come back to Jorrvaskr with me.”

“I promise. We’ll drink ourselves silly tomorrow. A celebration.” He let go of my face, stepping away from me. “I love you, Aela.”


	9. A Moment Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas is beginning to worry for Aela and Karalissa, and must deal with the aftermath of the previous day's events. Later, Vilkas and Karalissa spend some time together.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

I sat beside my brother in the mead hall, waiting for the rest of The Circle to return home. It had been hours since I had assumed they would return. No doubt Aela and Skjor had hazed the girl, and Kara wouldn’t have fought. The girl was destined to hunt, and she was probably having the time of her life.

I wished I felt the same way about the beast. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t love the curse like a blessing. Too many nights spent aching for blood, and too many nights spent listening to the muffled cries of memories and kills past.

Farkas was humming to himself as he looked at the pages of a book. He had told me of Kara’s service to him on their trip to Dustman’s Cairn, and I hated myself for feeling so grateful to her. Not that I didn’t want to feel grateful, but that I was angry that I had never helped my brother before. I had no doubt that Farkas wasn’t actually reading the book he was holding, but looking at the pages and remembering the story they told.

What I hated, even more so, was how captivated I was by her. Sure, she was very pretty, but the beauty of her face was rendered unimportant by the true beauty of her soul. She was always so happy, so light. She made me feel like things could be better, no matter how bad.

The front door to Jorrvaskr opened, but I didn’t look up until the hall became quiet, signaling an outsider had entered. I looked toward the entrance to see Nazeem, the arrogant servant of the cloud district, standing in the frame.

“Farkas or Vilkas?” he said, scanning the room.

My brother and I stood. “Aye.” I said, walking toward him.

“Two women have requested your assistance at the gate.” He turned and left without another word. I looked at my brother for only a moment before we both walked rather quickly toward the door. Outside, the sky was dark, signaling a storm approaching. We walked down the steps to the market stalls, and looked toward the gate. When we saw them, we ran.

Kara was carrying Aela in her arms, a task that was undoubtedly difficult for her. Kara was almost unrecognizable, as the right side of her face and most of her chest was drenched in blood. Aela, though covered in blood, seemed very conscious. When Kara saw us, she looked relieved.

My brother and I closed the gap between the women rather quickly, and Farkas took Aela from Kara’s arms. I quickly looked her over for wounds, but saw none. Aela didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She just stared blankly.

“She’s not hurt.” Kara said, her voice raspy and small. The sound brought my attention back to her.

Her face was pale, and the source of all the blood seemed to be from a cut across her right eye. It was swollen shut, so I couldn’t see if she would lose it. I pulled off my glove and put my hand over the wound, trying to stop the blood. It was deep, but maybe not deep enough to cripple her sight. Her entire neck was purple and bruised, and I could make out the shapes of fingers against her pale skin, now paler with blood loss. I had no doubt that she had been beaten savagely.

“What in the name of Talos happened?” I asked, trying to wipe blood away from her face as gently as I could. She winced in pain as I touched her.

Kara shook her head slowly. “Vilkas, please take us to Kodlak.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but I pulled my hand away from her face and nodded. I put an arm around her shoulders, tucking her safely against me. I felt her small arm wrap around my torso, leaning on me as we walked behind Farkas toward Jorrvaskr. 

Once we opened the door, we met the gaze of everyone in the room. They saw Aela first, looking tiny against my brother’s large frame. Soon after, their gaze shifted to my hand on Kara’s shoulder, trying to shelter her from curious eyes, and gasped at her face. Torvar, nearest to the door, reached toward her. “Are you alright, Lissa?” Kara said nothing, but moved her shoulder before he could touch her, not wanting the contact.

We walked past the Companions wordlessly, and down the stairs to the Living Quarters. As we moved slowly down the hall, I looked at my brother. He had tears in his eyes, but he nodded, telling me silently that he knew what this meant too. Kara had been beaten. Aela had not spoken. Skjor did not return with her.

Kodlak opened the door for us as he heard us approach. He said nothing as he looked at Farkas carrying Aela, then at Kara’s bloody and bruised face, then at my look of grief. He closed the door behind him, and we stood in a line as he walked toward his bookcase at the back of the room. Farkas set Aela down, but he kept a hand on her back, making sure she could stand on her own.

The Harbinger turned toward us. He looked at each of us individually before he spoke.

“What’s happened?”

Aela said nothing, but stared at him wordlessly. Farkas and I both looked to Kodlak with wordless explanation, yet confusion and denial. Without an audible confession, perhaps it wasn’t true. Kodlak tried again for an answer. “Karalissa, what has happened?”

Kara straightened her shoulders, then cleared her throat. “Skjor has fallen to the Silver Hand.” She looked down at her feet, and I noticed a large amount of blood trickling down the back of her neck as her hair fell over her face.

As Kara spoke, Aela hit the ground. She was quiet for a moment, but then she let out uncontrollable sobs. I had never seen her cry, and the sight of her shaking in agony, wallowing in the loss of Skjor, was enough to bring tears to the Harbinger’s eyes. Farkas lowered himself to the ground, wrapping his arms around Aela and holding her while she drowned in her pain.

Kodlak looked away from us, and sat at his table in the corner. He looked at me and Kara, then at Farkas and Aela, a collective lump on the ground. He sighed, then gestured for us to join him. Kara sat at the table, and I pulled up a chair to sit next to her. While the two spoke, I used a cloth from a nearby wardrobe to wipe the blood from the back of her neck and her face. She winced as I touched the back of her head, jerking away from my hand. Again, I saw the shape of fingers engraved on her neck.

I felt anger rupture in my chest. “Who the hell did this to you, Kara?”

She stared at the table, trying to distract herself from the sound of Aela crying out in pain. She blinked a few times. “Silver Hand.”

Kodlak urged her to tell the full tale, and she stumbled through it with difficulty. Not because it was hard for her to speak of it, but because every time she said Skjor’s name, Aela began to sob harder. Farkas was still holding and rocking her when Kara told us of her transformation, of their fight, of the beating dealt to her.

The she told us of her death. The woods, the wolves, the trees. “Skjor was there, and he sent me back.” Kara began to cry then, looking back toward Aela. “He said to tell Aela he was sorry for leaving her alone. He said to tell you he loved you.”

Aela grew silent as Kara spoke to her. Her face lost all emotion within seconds, and she was utterly soundless. Farkas held her tightly, clutching her against his chest.

Kodlak stared at Lissa, his mouth agape. “You went to the Hunting Grounds, not Sovngarde.”

Kara nodded. “Skjor told me we will not go to Sovngarde.”

I shook my head. “You were right, Kodlak.”

“His body is still at Gallows Rock.” Kara said, tears streaking her bloody face. “I couldn’t carry both.” She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.

Kodlak shook his head. “This is not your fault, Karalissa. It is no one’s fault but mine. I should not have allowed something like this to happen.” Kodlak leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beard. “You have honored your family, Karalissa, by ensuring Aela’s safe return over your own.”

“Farkas and I will retrieve Skjor’s body.” I said as I looked at my brother, who just nodded in agreement, his face pressed against the top of Aela’s head.

Kodlak stood. “Wait here, all of you. No doubt the others are worried. I’ll speak to them.” He strode slowly from the room, closing the door behind him. 

Aela, though silent, still leaned against Farkas. He looked at me, then at Kara. “Is your eye okay, Lissa?” he asked her.

“It’s fine.” she said. It was swollen shut, and she looked like she was in pain, but she ignored my brother’s concern.

Aela stood then and left the room. Farkas followed her quickly to see where she was going, and looked down the hall after her as I heard a door close. “She went to Skjor’s room.” He said, looking at me. He closed the doors again, then sat next to me in the seat where Kodlak had been.

“What are we going to do, Vilkas?” Farkas looked at me, his face creased with worry.

“I don’t know, brother. We will wait for Kodlak’s word.” As I spoke, Kara leaned her head against my shoulder, quite obviously exhausted. I looked over her, the blood that caked the hair on the back of her head catching my eye. I felt rage building again in my chest. As she began to cry, I wrapped an arm around her.

“Lissa, are you alright?” Farkas leaned forward, trying to see her face.

Kara blinked, trying to control her tears. “It was horrible.” She pulled her head off of my shoulder to look at us. “Bodies of wolves in cages. Their heads on stakes. There was so much blood, and then Skjor.” She shook her head. “Gods, I could smell everything. The blood and the sweat and the death. I could hear hearts stop.” She looked as if she were going to vomit. “The Hunting Grounds. Men running about, killing animals with their teeth. Gods, I never want to go back.”

I pulled Kara back into me, trying to calm her. Farkas leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. She cried quietly, but she entwined her fingers with mine, gripping tightly. I held her until Kodlak returned. When he opened the door, we all looked to him for our command. 

“The rest of Jorrvaskr knows of Skjor’s death. That being established, I want all of you to stay down here for a few days. The others will have questions, but I’m not yet ready to give them any answers. We cannot tell them that we were hunting the killers hunting us without betraying the beast.” He looked toward the hall. “Karalissa can take Aela’s room until she wishes to return to it.”

We had all left Kodlak’s chambers then, going our separate ways. Kara was greeted outside by Tilma, who carried a basket of potions and towels, and a face worn with sadness. The two women walked toward Aela’s room, where they closed the door behind them without a word. 

Before I could enter my room, I felt my brother’s hand on my shoulder. I turned to him.

“This is bad. All of it.” He said to me.

“Aye. It’s bad.”

“Do you think Aela will be alright?”

“I don’t know brother. We’ll have to wait and see.” I looked at my feet. “We’ll have to leave early tomorrow, to reach Gallows Rock.”

Farkas nodded. “He was a brother to us.”

“Aye, he was.” I clenched my fists, thinking again about the man who killed him, the same man who beaten Kara to death.

Farkas stepped toward me. “Don’t shake.” he said to me. I realized then that I was trembling, and took a deep breath, trying to control the beast in me. Farkas gripped the back of my neck, pulling me forward to press his forehead against mine. It was something Jergen had done to calm us when we were boys, and I felt a closeness to him I hadn’t felt in a long time. “We’ll be okay, Vilkas.”

I breathed heavily, pressing my forehead firmly against Farkas’. “We’ll be okay.”

We separated, nodding to each other, then entering our separate rooms. I didn’t sleep that night, the sound of Aela’s cries, the image of Kara’s face, and thoughts of tomorrow’s painful journey occupying my mind until sunrise.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________  
Several days had passed before anybody spoke to each other. 

My brother and I had gone to retrieve Skjor’s body. The sight was horrible, no doubt traumatizing for Kara on her first night with the beast. We brought him back to Jorrvaskr before sundown the day after his death.

Skjor was perched above the Skyforge outside of Jorrvaskr, where he could watch over the training of new blood, as he would have wanted. His body was burned, melted into the forge of heroes, where his flesh could provide protection for Companions when welded. The funeral was brief, as Kodlak knew Skjor would not have wanted us to dwindle on him too long. Though most of Jorrvaskr cried, Aela stood silent, watching the flames consume Skjor.

Farkas had moved all of Aela’s things into a box after the funeral, and left the box to sit on the floor next to Kara’s door. As Kara was now a member of the Circle, she needed a room outside of the new blood’s quarters, and Aela wasn’t willing to give up Skjor’s room. Kara had no protests, and moved her belongings into Aela’s old room, making herself at home.

Kara didn’t lose her eye, something we were all grateful for. It would have been too painful for her, and for Aela, if she had lost an eye immediately following Skjor’s death. Her face would carry a dark red scar now across her right eye, stretching from eyebrow to the top of her jaw. She hated it, I could tell immediately. Not because it made her feel unattractive, but because it was taunting. A permanent reminder of the terrible night.

Almost a week had passed since their return, but Aela wasn’t quite ready to leave her new room. She hadn’t left it yet, to our knowledge, but I imagined she had to be sneaking out in the middle of the night for food.

Kara had been so quiet after the funeral, and for whatever reason, I was growing concerned for her. That’s how I found myself outside of her door, knocking quietly.

“Come in.” she said from the other side.

I pushed the door open, and she greeted me with a warm smile beneath a face clustered with lingering bruises. “Hey there, grumpy.” she said to me from her table in the corner of the room. Her hair was out of her face, all piled loosely on top of her head. It was funny, seeing her out of her armor. Even in baggy trousers and a ratty old shirt, she was lovely.

“Evening.” I said, leaning against her closed door, my arms folded across my chest. I felt myself grinning at her as she turned in her chair to face me. The swelling in her eye had gone down significantly, and the wound was healing nicely, no doubt due to Tilma’s care. “How’s the eye feeling?”

She shrugged. “It’s alright. I got lucky.” She turned back to her table, where she continued working over a bowl.

I walked toward her, looking over her shoulder at the greenish-brown concoction. Though it looked disgusting, it smelled decent. “What in Oblivion is that?”

She looked up at me, a sweet smile on her face. “Ground tea leaves and mud. I went on a week-long hunting trip about a year ago, and I used this as a camouflage of sorts.” She scooped some up to show me. “Turns out, it’s very good for the skin. My face has never felt softer.”

“Be careful smearing that gunk on your face.” I said to her. “Could irritate your eye.”

She snorted at me. “I’ll just have to use it on you, then. Your face is always filthy.”

I touched the side of my face, scratching my familiarly chalky flesh. “I’m not that dirty, am I?” She raised an eyebrow, answering the question with a sly smile. “No matter, it’s not happening.”

She put on a fake pouting face. “Oh, come on, Vilkas. I went through all the trouble of making this, and I can’t even use it on my own face, as you’ve pointed out. And now you want me to just waste it.”

I glared at her, feeling a smile form on my face anyway. “Don’t try that with me. I don’t want your…mud all over my face.”

She gave me a look that I suppose was meant to be menacing, but she was nothing close to intimidating. She set the bowl down on the table. “Fine. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” she said, walking toward the bookshelf. She paused, looking back at me as she pulled a book out. “I guess I could just…read another book.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hold back a small laugh. “Fine, Kara. Rub the gunk on my face.”

Kara squealed and jumped up and down. I couldn’t help myself from laughing as she bounced back toward the table and made me sit in the chair. She scooped up a good bit of the green goop with her hand, and began to smear it across my cheeks.

“Ugh, it’s cold.” I said to her, wrinkling my nose as I scowled.

“You’ll get used to it.” she said, smiling at me. I followed her eyes as they traveled my face, running her fingertips over my cheeks, my nose, my eyebrows. They were a deep shade of brown, but so amused that I was allowing her to clean my face. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I watched her, no matter how hard I tried to scowl at her. She was so innocent, and how that could translate into a beast, hungry for blood, I couldn’t imagine.

She noticed my staring, and pulled her face back a few inches. “What are you looking at?” she asked, a soft smile on her face.

I struggled to suppress a small laugh. “I’m trying to picture you as a wolf.” I told her. “It’s hard to imagine you as anything but a happy little Nord. You could pass for a puppy, maybe, but a wolf?”

Kara laughed genuinely, then her face fell slightly. “I imagine I look somewhat like Aela.” She paused. “I couldn’t recall any of the night of my transformation in the first few days. It was almost like it didn’t really happen, any of it. Now, however, I can recall a few details.”

I waited for her to finish lathering my face with the mud mask, then asked. “What is it you remember?”

She set the bowl on the table, then leaned against her bookcase. After a long sigh, she began. “I remember being in the underforge with Skjor and Aela. I remember listening to him explain things to me, however briefly. He told me it was my choice, and I chose the beast.”

I nodded as she continued. “I drank the blood, and I remember the pain, but everything after that is scattered. It was like I had been removed from my own body, and I had become a spectator upon moments of the evening. I remember seeing Skjor and Aela running through the woods, but they didn’t hunt. They only watched as I ripped goats apart with my teeth.”

She sighed. “After that, I don’t remember sights, but sounds and feelings. I remember hearing my own low growl as the beast detected an animal nearby. I remember feeling the fear in an elk’s heart as I attacked it. I remember feeling the love Aela and Skjor felt for each other.”

She paused a moment, looking at me, assessing whether or not she should continue. I nodded once, indicating that I wanted to hear whatever she had to say. “I remember dying very vividly. Aela was screaming, the skinner was laughing, and I just remember…fading away. In the Hunting Grounds, the sky was magnificent. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” She shrugged at me, a sideways grin on her face. “Though, the rest of the realm ruined the scenery for me. I have no interest in going back.”

I felt my chest grow heavy with rage, hearing her speak of her death. I couldn’t imagine anyone hurting this girl, even in the slightest of manners, and I couldn’t rightly tolerate the idea.

She laughed softly. “You don’t have to do that. Feel angry, I mean.”

I jerked my head back suddenly, surprised at her words. “You weren’t kidding. You feel what others do.”

“Mm. It’s odd, but very interesting.” She shrugged. “Gives me a bit of an insight, you know?”

I nodded. “Can you recall coming back?”

“I was sent back, almost as quickly as I entered. Aela revived me, after killing the skinner.” Her eyes grew distant. “The rest, well, you already know of that. I can’t stop feeling that I made the wrong choice. If I’d simply declined Skjor’s offer, Aela’s blood, maybe he’d be alive now.”

I took a moment to absorb her story. It was so fascinating, and yet all too tragic. I cleared my throat. “Don’t think like that, Kara.” I reached for her hand. “I think what you did for Aela was…noble. It had to have been a difficult task, to carry her all the way here, but you did it anyway. You’re an honorable Companion.” I nodded my head. “Skjor would be proud.”

She rested her head against her bookcase, squeezing my hand tightly. “Thank you, Vilkas.”

I grimaced, trying to stray away from the moment. “How long do I have to keep this on my face, pup?” I reached toward my forehead.

“Don’t touch it!” she said, laughing. “Just a little while longer.”


	10. A Moment in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aela is still swimming in grief, holed up in Skjor's room. Farkas decides enough is enough.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

Lissa’s voice came soon enough. “Aela? Can I bring you anything?” 

Farkas too. “Aela, let me in. Talk to me.”

Vilkas was next. “Aela, you can’t stay locked in there forever.”

With each attempt to talk to me, I ignored them. I stayed in bed, stared at the wall, listened to the voices in the hall. I tried not to think, to just exist, but my brain kept screaming at me. Reminding me of the past. Reminding me of that night. Reminding me of him.

I needed to distract myself. I sat up, looking around at the room. Everything was on a shelf, or on a table, but not in the right order. I pulled myself from bed, a small voice inside of me telling me I had to organize. Color-code, alphabetize, and make things chronological. A rhetoric of object placement that made my skin crawl, and it had to be fixed. Then I would feel better.

I started with the weapons in the display case. He had placed them in there, haphazardly. I started organizing them, from largest to smallest. Maces, arrows, daggers. All in the correct order. I ran my hands over the coarse metal, the light dancing off of the iron shine and making patterns on my arm. It drew my attention to my forearm, a long flesh-tone scar ever present. A permanent reminder of the underforge.

“She’s agreed to be your forebear.” 

I put my arm down quickly, looking around the room for something else to distract my thoughts. I walked to the books on the shelf, tossed carelessly and scattered about the different levels of the case. I pulled them all off, beginning with the letter ‘A’ and organizing them alphabetically. 

I’d made it halfway through when I held the red book in my hands. Information on Hircine, and everything about his realm.

“I want to roam the Hunting Grounds with no one more than you, my love.”

No. No. No. I pulled all of the books off of the shelf, tossing the one about Hircine in the corner. I began to reorganize them, by color this time. 

I turned my head to look for something else to clean once the books were all in order. I rested my gaze on the wastebasket in the corner, all full of mead bottles.

“We’ll drink ourselves silly tomorrow. A celebration.”

I whipped my head toward the bed again, looking at the side table. I pulled the drawers out, desperate to organize the contents. There was a small black book inside, worn and flimsy. I picked it up carefully, and flipped through the pages to see his art. Something he had done when he had free time. Something that made him happy.

I looked at the water color pictures on the faded pages. They began as night sky landscapes, painted with beautiful shades of greens and blues. The fields of Skyrim. The woods.

“That was the night I fell in love with you.”

I flipped the pages faster. In the middle, the pages were blank. I continued to flip, looking for something to be there. Then, I found the last pages of the book. All painted with pictures of my face.

I set the book down on the bed, taking several deep breaths to try to control myself. I couldn’t though, and I yelled as I overturned the side table, tossing it across the room. It hit the bookshelf, causing it to topple over and spill books everywhere.

I sat for a moment in the rubble, waiting to feel something, anything but the feeling of defeat that lingered in my chest. Nothing ever came to replace it, though, and I clutched the book to my chest and stared blankly at the mess I’d caused. It was my fault. It was all my fault.

I heard footsteps in the hall, coming toward my room. Vilkas’ voice came as the foosteps grew closer.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I heard a crash.” Lissa said from across the hall. My door shook as they tried to open it, but it was still locked. 

“Aela? What’s going on?” Vilkas sounded so concerned, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Move.” I heard Farkas’ voice, then a run toward my door.

It slammed open, Farkas’ weight enough to bust open and get inside. He looked down at me, and before the others could come in, he shut the door and locked it again. I was still laughing and clutching the book. I had no doubt I looked utterly insane, but Farkas just looked down at me on the floor, then sighed. 

He put the shelf back, picked up the side table. He stacked all of the books in even rows on the shelf. He scooped up the contents of the side table and put them back in the drawer. Then, he sat on the floor with me.

Farkas looked at me from where he sat, leaning against the side table. He crossed his legs over each other, looking at me with knowing eyes. He pushed his long hair away from his face, and took a few breaths before he spoke.

“When our father brought us here, Vilkas cried. A lot. He had promised us we were going to go fishing. We always went fishing on Tirdas, and we missed the turn for the lake. Vilkas had spent all this time making a new fishing rod, and Jergen didn’t take us to the lake. So he cried. When we got here, to Jorrvaskr, I remember being glad we didn’t go to the lake. All of these big, strong Nords looking down at us, telling us we would be warriors one day. I wanted to stay forever. Vilkas wasn’t happy though. He didn’t like the warriors. He just kept clinging to Jergen’s leg.

"He told us we were going to sleep there for the night, and he would go out to run some errands and then come back. Vilkas cried and cried, and even after our father left and we were in bed, he cried. He was my big brother, and he was supposed to be in charge, so I asked him what I was supposed to do. But he just cried. I kept asking him why he was crying, but he didn’t answer.

"The next morning, we woke up and Jergen hadn’t returned. Tilma made us breakfast, some of the big warriors showed us how to use their weapons, but Vilkas was so quiet. He talked a lot before that, and he was always so happy. I told him to just smile. We would have fun until our father came to get us. I remember he just glared at me, and he told me Jergen wasn’t coming back. I couldn’t understand it, why my brother would think that. Of course he was coming back.

"Days passed. Then weeks. Then years. Jergen never came back. It didn’t make sense to me until a few years after, when we were almost ten. I remember because Skjor had just joined the Companions. I watched him teasing my brother, taunting him because we were short and we had little legs, and I remember Vilkas swinging a wooden sword at him, and hitting him in the leg. Skjor pretended to be really hurt, and first the first time in a long time, Vilkas smiled. Skjor told him it was a good thing we were left here, because he was meant to be a warrior.

"It made sense then. Jergen didn’t want us, but it was okay. Skjor would be our big brother, and that would be just as good as a father.” He looked away from me. “I know you hurt, because you loved him. Vilkas and I loved him too. Not in the same way, but just as much.” He grabbed my hand, reminding me that I was even in the room. “Please, don’t shut us out.”

I felt my shoulders relax, unraveling my limbs from the ball I had curled myself into. I looked at him, differently than I had before. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his war paint couldn’t hide them. He hadn’t slept in a while. I realized then that I wasn’t the only one in pain.

I handed him the book, and he opened the pages, looking at the art. “These are good.” he said as flipped pages. Then he saw the pictures of my face, and he nodded. “I would have thrown things too.”

I leaned back against the bed, resting my head on the mattress. Looking at Farkas, I felt myself smile. “Tell me more stories.”

He grinned at me, leaning forward as he thought of more to tell.


	11. Moments Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa has grown tired of hiding from the rest of the Companions, so she and Vilkas go out for a little shopping. Things take a turn for the worse when an old friend makes an appearance, and Vilkas must help Karalissa learn to control the beast. 
> 
> POV: Karalissa

I looked at my reflection, running my fingers over the freshly healed scar over my eye. It tainted my face, making it difficult for Aela to look at me, let alone speak to me. I hated it, hated that everyone looked at me with such sympathy now.

            I was tired of staring at the walls of my room, hearing the muffled chatter of the other Companions, who now rarely spoke to me now that I was in the Circle. They all thought that I didn’t deserve to be in the Circle, being the newest recruit. Even Torvar wouldn’t speak to me, and he never shut up. Ria and Njada were worst of all, shooting me hateful glances as they spoke in hushed tones. I could feel their distaste for me, radiating from them any time I walked in the room.

            Frowning at my face in the mirror, I sighed. I needed fresh air, something I hadn’t had since Skjor’s funeral. Part of it was helpful, not being in the wind, as it carried the scent of animals from outside the walls, driving the beast within me crazy. Since I was turned, I had spoken to Kodlak and Vilkas about my transformations. After seeing what I fate awaited me in the Hunting Grounds, I wanted nothing to do with the beast. I had been trying to keep it from overpowering me, keeping the beast at bay, and I had been successful in the week and half that I had been secluded in the living quarters. But I was running out of distractions.

            I looked away from my reflection, pulling on my cloth boots, tossing my hair up into a bun, and grabbing a satchel of coins. I left my room, walking across the hallway to Vilkas’ door. I knocked loudly.

            Inside, I could hear him roll out of bed, and shuffle toward the door. He opened it, wearing trousers and a black shirt, a great contrast from the shine that came with his usual wolf armor. At first, I felt bad, thinking he had been sleeping. Then I noticed the book in his hand, the place he left off tabbed with his thumb.

            He looked down at me from the frame, his face somehow dirty once again, though I’d just made him wash it. “Morning, pup.”

            “I’m not interrupting you, am I?” I shifted my weight between my feet.

            “Not at all. What do you need?” He set the book down on the table beside the door, gripping the top of the door frame with his hand.

            I sighed. “I need to get out of Jorrvaskr. Want to go…shopping?”

            He raised an eyebrow at me. “Shopping.”

            “Yes.”

            “You want me to go…shopping with you.”

            I cleared my throat. “Yes, I want to you to go shopping with me.”

            Vilkas stared at me for a moment, a grin on his face. “Do I come off as someone who…shops?” He was trying to toy with me, but I could feel his interest. He wanted to spend time with me.

            Trying to cover my blush, I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “You don’t have to, you know. I just thought I’d ask.”

            Vilkas laughed at me, then ran his hand through his greasy hair. “No, no. I’ll go with you, Kara. Give me a few minutes to get ready.” I nodded as he closed the door.

            While I waited, I walked back toward my room, stopping in front of Aela’s door. I knocked quietly before opening it. Inside, Farkas sat in the chair in the corner, speaking to Aela, who sat on her floor with her legs crossed.

            As I entered, they both smiled at me, a sight I hadn’t seen in what felt like a very long time.

            “Hello, Lissa.” Aela said, looking pleased to see me, but her lingering sadness was betrayed by her eyes.

            “Hi, you two.” I leaned against the door frame. “Vilkas and I are going into town. Do either of you need anything?”

            Farkas smiled even bigger. “Maybe you could get a new book for us. Belethor probably has some.”

            I laughed quietly. “Okay, Farkas.” I turned to Aela.

            She shook her head. “Thank you, though.” She cocked her head to the side slightly. “Your eye looks a lot better.”

            “It feels a lot better.” I said to her. I touched the scar again. “Aela, I never thanked you, for saving my life. You brought me back from the dead. I don’t know if I ever can thank you enough.”

            “Don’t thank me. We’re even, after you hauled me back here. That’s just as much saving my life.” she said. “Lissa, I’m sorry we haven’t spoken since…” she cleared her throat. “I owe you, for all you did for me.” Her gratitude was genuine, and it filled my gut.

            I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it, Aela.” Vilkas approached behind me, wearing his armor. I nodded to him over my shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.”

            “Don’t forget the book.” Farkas said as I closed the door.

            Vilkas led the way toward the stairs, and we earned a few stares as we exited the mess hall and stepped out into the open air. I inhaled the fresh, cool morning.

            “It’s been a while. I missed the sun.” I said to Vilkas, who was staring at me as I absorbed the late morning.

            “Aye.” he said, walking down the steps. “What are we shopping for?”

            I followed behind him quickly, bounding down the steps to get ahead of him. “Belethor’s first. Farkas wants a book.”

            Vilkas rolled his eyes. “Anything for Farkas.”

             He followed me all the way to Belethor’s General Goods. Once we arrived, I looked through his vast collection of books, while Vilkas roamed the room. He asked Belethor about his armory and weapons, as well as his collection of rare animal bones. Vilkas swore up and down that he had killed one of everything in Skyrim, and he loved to brag about it.

            I picked out a few books for Farkas and paid for them before we made our way back outside. We walked around the little shops for a while, striking up conversation with Fralia Gray-Mane, Eorland’s wife.

            Eventually, Vilkas talked me into getting a drink with him at the Bannered Mare. I had no desire to drink, but I had even less desire to return to Jorrvaskr so soon, so I went with him. Inside, Vilkas waved to the young redguard behind the counter. She immediately smiled and hopped up, pouring two drinks and heading toward us. She was in front of us, drink in hand, before we had even sat on the bench in the center of the room.

            As she walked away, after saying a few pleasantries to Vilkas and ignoring me, I gave the Nord a nudge. “Do you get free drinks from all of the ladies who fancy you, or is that just here?”

            Vilkas grunted. “The Companions drink free here.”

            I laughed. “I’m sure your drink would have been free regardless. I may have had to pay for mine without your company.”

            We sat at on the bench next to the fire, a warm glass of mead in our hands. Vilkas had already finished two, seemingly unaffected by the alcohol. I was still working on my first glass. We sat like that for a while, listening to the bard and sipping our drinks.

            “Glad to be out of Jorrvaskr, pup?” Vilkas asked me, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the bard. I hadn’t decided whether or not I liked the nickname.

            I nodded. “It was getting stuffy.”

            “Mm.” Vilkas grunted, nodding. “Something else is bothering you.”

            “Me?” I furrowed my brow at him.

            He rolled his eyes. “No, the bard.”

            “Easy there, grumpy.” I said to him with a playful nudge. He laughed quietly. “The other Companions don’t seem to want to talk to me anymore.”

            Vilkas shrugged. “They’re jealous of you, Kara. Unsure of why you’re a member of the Circle before the rest of them.”

            “Why weren’t they…initiated?”

            Vilkas thought for a moment. “I suppose it was because Aela and Skjor didn’t think they could handle it.”

            “Karalissa?” A voice behind me interrupted. We both turned, looking up at the high elf staring down at us.

            I stood, realizing who it was. “Viarmo. What are you doing here?”

            The bard looked at me, his eyes expressing his relief. “Your mother sent me to find you. I went to Riften first, but the mercenary told me you would be here.” He gave me once-over. “Your face looks dreadful.”

            “You spoke to Marcurio?” I asked, then resorted my thoughts. “Why are you looking for me?”

            Viarmo shook his head. “We want you and your brother to come home, Karalissa. Come back to Solitude. Your mother misses you both.” He felt secretive. He was concealing something.

            I stared at him, unable to speak. I hadn’t thought about mom not knowing about the ambush—I tried not to think about it myself. Within me, the beast was growing angry. I tried to swallow it down, the fury clawing at the inside of my throat, but the beast had other ideas.

            “You both belong at home.”

            _Kill him._

I shook my head. Not at Viarmo, but at the beast’s command. I felt myself trembling, unsure of how to explain things to him. Vilkas touched my arm, trying to calm me. “Kara, are you alright?”

            Viarmo glared at him. “Who are you?”

            Vilkas stood, “I’m a Companion, elf. Have you heard of the Companions?”

            His intimidation had no effect on Viarmo. He turned his attention back to me. “Karalissa, I want you to tell me where you’ve been. Where your brother has been.”

            _Kill him_. I could hear Viarmo’s heart beating, hear the blood pulsing through his elven veins. I could almost taste the warm copper that would ooze from his neck. Vilkas was somewhere in the fog, concerned for me. I could feel his presence, but I only saw what the beast wanted to see.

            I tried to speak. “We got caught in an ambush—”

            Viarmo scoffed. “I don’t need one of your stories, Karalissa. I’ve been all over Skyrim looking for you.”

            The beast knew my secrets, and it laughed. I laughed too. “Oh, I know you’ve been all over Skyrim. You left us at the college to travel, free of any burdens.”

            “Don’t be a brat, child. You need to be home. Your mother is tired of people asking her where you two have gone.”

            Vilkas stared at the elf, his jaw clenched. “She doesn’t have to go anywhere she doesn’t want to.” I felt his worry, though he tried to mask it.

            _Kill him_. The beast growled in my stomach. I felt my spine twitching, popping as the beast grew within me.

            “Then tell me where Cassius is at, and I’ll leave you alone.” Viarmo said, rolling his eyes. “And I thought he was the uncooperative one.”

            I was shaking, unable to control it. I felt Vilkas’ hand on my back, trying to keep me level headed. “We were caught in an Imperial ambush, outside of Riften. He was taken to Helgen.”

            Viarmo laughed. “Very funny. There is no Helgen anymore.” I stared at him, waiting for him to understand. He just rolled his eyes. “Enough of the stories, Karalissa”

            _Remember what he did._ _Kill him._ I tried to battle the beast, but it was too strong. I chose a different tactic—instead of countering with the beast, I’d just fight through it. Keep talking. Ignore it.

            “I tried to find him, after the Imperials took him, but it was too late. Helgen was destroyed.” Tears were streaming down my face.

            His face was emotionless, then my words registered. He went from confused to angry in a matter of moments. “I will not tell your mother that.” Viarmo said to me, his voice low and dark. “How could you let this happen?”

            I couldn’t stand still anymore, the beast inside of me screaming to be released. My hearing honed in on only Viarmo’s heartbeat, the rest of the room a blur of faceless bodies and inaudible mist. I could hear Vilkas’ muffled voice saying my name somewhere beyond me, but I only saw the thick vein in Viarmo’s neck pulsing rhythmically. He was the target, and the wolf in me wanted blood. I inhaled deeply, the scent of Viarmo’s sudden fear filling my lungs and driving the beast to the breaking point.

            I pivoted on my heel and walked out the front door without another word to Viarmo, begging the beast to be quiet. It growled within me, pushing against my skin, trying to claw free. I felt my neck cracking, but I shut my eyes, ignoring both my aching flesh and the sound of Vilkas’ voice following me. I walked quickly toward the gates of Whiterun, pushing them open and stepping outside.

            Past the city, I strode quickly toward the cover of trees. I watched the sky, the field ahead of me leading to the woods. I couldn’t feel my own body, just the pain that shot through my chest and to my brain as I fought the blood. My neck snapped suddenly, and I heard myself cry out, but I gained control again. I tried to focus on the wind against my face, the rhythmic steps I took against the dirt path.  

Under the cover of green, as I made it past the field and into the surrounding woods, the pulsing pain became quicker. The beast knew it was hidden now, out the sight of innocent people. My thoughts were erratic, flashing quickly between my brother, the charred bodies I had found in the ash left behind in Helgen, and Viarmo, the thick vein against his yellowed skin pulsing in beat with his racing heart.

            Still, I fought to choke the beast down. I kept moving until I found myself at the edge of a cliff. I looked down, cocking my head to the side as I measured the distance. I shut my eyes, inhaling deeply as my toes hung off of the edge. I thought again of Sovngarde, and it hit me then that as a child of Hircine, I would never see my brother again. I listened intently to the running water beneath the cliff’s edge.

            “Kara! Get down from there.” My eyes flew open as I heard Vilkas behind me, but I couldn’t move. My shaking was so violent, I could hardly see straight. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

            “I can’t control it.” I said through my teeth, shutting my eyes again. “It’s stronger than I am.” I clenched my fists beside me, and I tried to focus on Vilkas’ voice instead of the growl in my chest.

            I heard him step closer to me. “I can help you. It’s difficult at first, but it’s manageable.”

            “It wants to hunt. It wants blood.” I told him as breathing became more difficult. “But I don’t want that, Vilkas.”

            “I know.” He stepped closer to me. “You need to avert your focus. Think of something else.”

            “What should I do?” I looked down the cliff, the running water below me, and the rocks along the bank.

            Vilkas was right behind me now, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest and away from the edge. He turned me to face him, wiping tears away from my face. “You can’t keep anything bottled up, or the beast will have more power. You have to talk about everything.” He pulled me back into his chest, holding me close. “I hated it at first, talking to Kodlak about my every thought, but it helps. Nothing irritates the beast.”

            My shaking stopped as I focused on Vilkas’ voice and his musky scent. I rested my head against him, breathing deeply. The pain was going away, the beast within me silenced.

            “Now, tell me about your brother, Kara. I promise, your secrets are safe with me.”

            I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Cassius, my brother, he got in a fight with Viarmo.”

            “The elf.” Vilkas grumbled.

            “Yes. It was horrible. Cass was so strong-headed. He didn’t do anything anyone told him unless they had a good reason for it.” I took a deep breath. “Viarmo wanted Cass to join the Imperial Legion, to fight against the rebellion. Cass didn’t want to join the Legion in the first place, but it was more than that. He agreed with Jarl Ulfric, his beliefs.

“Viarmo told Cassius that he had to show him some respect, now that he was basically a parent to us. He just kept saying these things about our father, about how useless he was, how he wasn’t an honorable man. My rational mind understood that Viarmo was just angry, he didn’t really mean it, but Cass was just too hot-headed. I was too young to remember him, but Cassius adored our father.”

            I felt Vilkas nod. “So he lost his head.”

            “It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. They just kept hitting each other, again and again.” I shivered, and Vilkas tightened his grip around me. “Once it was over, and Cassius had won, he said he was leaving. He’d ‘be damned if he had to spend another second with the elf.’”

            “And you went with him.”

            “They made me choose. My mother, a life in Solitude that I wouldn’t enjoy, and probably an arranged marriage with another bard of Viarmo’s decision, something he’d been pushing on Cass for some time. Or, I could go with Cassius, and choose how I wanted to live.” I smiled then. “So I went with my brother.”

            “Then what happened?”

            I sighed. “We went to The Rift, as far from Solitude as we could without leaving Skyrim all together. We spent almost a year in the fields, hunting and fishing, selling the meat and hide for coin. It was one of the best years of my life.”

            “But you were separated.”

            “Yes. We were on a hunt one day, and Cass just happened to catch a glimpse of the Stormcloak cuirasses. He had talked for so long about joining the rebellion, and I supported him. He had found something that made him happy, something he was passionate about. I would have joined them too, just to be with my brother.”

            “What stopped him?”

            “The ambush. He had spent no more than a few minutes speaking to the Stormcloaks when the Imperials intercepted. They were killing people, capturing others. Cass told me to run.” I looked up at Vilkas. “I followed behind the wagons for a while, but I couldn’t keep up.”

            “They took him to Helgen.” Vilkas said to me, brushing my hair away from my face.

            I nodded. “It was destroyed by the time I got there.”

            Vilkas rested his cheek against my forehead. “Your brother is dead.”

            I closed my eyes as realization finally set in. I’d never heard it out loud. “I think so.”

            He took a deep breath. “And Skjor is dead.”

            “Yes.”

            “And Jergen is dead, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” He put his hand on my cheek, tilting my head to look at him again. “It’s okay to feel the pain, for you cannot avoid it. Don’t let it control you.”

            I nodded. “Thank you, Vilkas. I’ve never told anyone about that.”

            “You can talk to me about anything, pup.” I decided then that I liked the nickname. He furrowed his brow. “I know it’s difficult to separate the good from the bad sometimes, but you have shown me that no matter how difficult something can be, there’s some positivity in it.” He looked away then, at the ground. I felt his happiness for just a moment, then he masked it with sudden embarrassment at the admission. He changed the subject. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish…shopping.”

            I laughed. “You didn’t want to shop anyway.”

            “I would have wandered through every shop in Whiterun if it meant spending the day with you.” As he spoke, I knew that he meant it.

            I looked up at him, a smile firm against my cheeks. “I’m lucky that you decided to humor me today. I very much enjoy being around you, Vilkas, but you’re so boring. Reading and frowning and pouting.” I poked his side. “We have to find some more interesting hobbies for you.”

            Vilkas laughed louder than I’ve ever heard. “Alright, pup, let’s get you home before you insult me anymore. I’ll return you to your favorite twin in Jorrvaskr.” His face had twisted into a grin.

            “Careful, grumpy. Don’t make assumptions about the twins. You may be surprised.” 


	12. A Moment's Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas has to intervene when Njada gets feisty. Later, Farkas is having trouble deciding whether or not to keep a secret.
> 
> POV: Farkas

“Sheogorath looked on, quietly mirthful, as the diminutive creature picked at a bit of detritus caught in scales betwixt the fiery eyes of the larger beast. With howling fury, the were-thing blinded itself trying to pluck away the nuisance. And so it continued for hours, Hircine looking on in shame while his finest beast gradually destroyed itself in pursuit of the seemingly oblivious bird, all the while chirping a mournful tune to the lonesome range.”

            I looked at Lissa, interrupting her from our reading. “Oblivious. What does that mean?”

            She smiled at me. “Oblivious, well, it means you don’t have any idea as to what’s going on around you.”

            We sat at a table in the corner of the mess hall, our chairs pushed close to each other. Close enough so I could look at the pages. Lissa had picked out this book, about a fight between Sheogorath and Hircine. It was good, but it had a lot of big words.

            My brother, who sat on a bench nearby, was also listening. “Oblivious, as in ‘Farkas is oblivious as to what’s happening in the book.’”

            Lissa shot him a glance that was almost scary, but Vilkas just laughed and apologized. I tapped the page she was on. “Keep going.” I said to her, eager to hear more.

            As Lissa continued to read, I looked at my brother. He was watching Lissa read, and every once in a while, he would smile. He didn’t even smile at the good parts. Just when Lissa would make a face while she spoke. When she wrinkled her nose, or when she widened her eyes.

            Vilkas liked her, more than I liked her. Don’t get me wrong, Lissa was quickly becoming my best friend. But Vilkas liked her in a different way. In the way Aela liked Skjor.

            Aela had been having a very hard time. She didn’t speak for days, but eventually, I got her to talk. Then we told stories to each other. Stories we’d heard, stories we’d lived, stories we’d made up on the spot. It was fun being around her.

            “Livid, but beaten, Hircine burned the ragged corpse and withdrew to his realm, swearing in forgotten tongues. His curses still hang in those peaks, and no wayfarer tarries for fear of his wrathful aspect in those obscured heights.”

            “A good choice in literature, Kara.” Vilkas said to her. She smiled, then her eyes focused on something behind me.

            Aela walked toward us from the living quarters. The rest of the Companions stared at her with open mouths. She hadn’t been out of her room in almost two weeks.

            She pulled up a chair next to me and sat down. She smiled, but I could see in her eyes that she was still hurting. Trying very hard not to show it, though.

            “Good to see you, Aela.” Vilkas said from his bench. “What do you have planned for the evening?”

            Aela shrugged. “Whatever you three have planned, if you don’t mind.” She looked at me, her smile getting bigger. “You don’t mind if I involve myself in your reading, do you Farkas?”

            I smiled back. “Not at all.” I nodded to Lissa, who also had a huge smile on her face as she looked at Vilkas. “Lissa, read the one about Chance. Aela will like that one.”

            Lissa nodded, then picked up the brown book on the table. “By the time she was sixteen, Minevah Iolos had been an unwelcome guest in every shop and manor in Balmora. Sometimes, she would take everything of value within; other times, it was enough to experience the pure pleasure of finding a way past the locks and traps. In either situation, she would leave a pair of dice in a prominent location as her calling card to let the owners know who had burgled them. The mysterious ghost became known to the locals as Chance.”

            “Hey there, Lissa.”

            We looked up from the book to see a drunken Njada standing in front of us. The other whelps weren’t far behind her.

            “Hello, Njada. What can I do for you?” Lissa did her best to smile at her.

            “I’m looking for work.” she said.

            “Actually, Njada, I don’t have any available at the moment. Maybe you could ask another Companion leader.”

            Njada snorted. “You consider yourself a leader here?”

            Vilkas stood then. “Watch your tongue, whelp. You’re speaking to a member of the Circle. She is a leader, and she will be treated as such.”

            Njada wobbled a little, but continued to speak. “She’s been here for a month, and suddenly she’s in charge of me?” Her words were slurring together. “I’ve been here for a year. Where’s my invitation?”

            “Kara has shown valor and promise, and has enough dignity not to conduct a confrontation in a drunken stupor.” I didn’t know what half of what he said meant, but Vilkas was angry.

            Njada was yelling now. “She hasn’t any right!”

            Vilkas lowered his gaze. “She has just as much right as any of us.”

            “She killed Skjor!” Njada screamed. “She killed Skjor, and she was promoted?” Both mine and Lissa’s mouths were hanging open. Vilkas was just shaking.

            Aela slammed her fist on the table and whipped her head toward Njada. The room was silent. “Leave him out of this. Just because you have some petty complaints that you need to air out doesn’t mean you have any right to be laying accusations that aren’t true.”

            Njada laughed. “So the rumors were true, then. About you, and Skjor.”

            Aela stood slowly from her chair. “Want to repeat that, Companion?”

            “The rumors, about you and Skjor. They’re true. It doesn’t matter to me, I just don’t see how you can sit at the same table with the girl who got him killed. Or, maybe you played a part in it. You were there too, no?”

            Aela jumped across the table and brought Njada to the floor with her. Aela was on top of her, punching her in the face over and over again. Njada screamed, but fought back. She grabbed a fistful of Aela’s hair, trying to rip it out. Aela cried out, but brought her elbow down to Njada’s nose.

            Lissa and I jumped up, and Lissa tried to pull Aela off of the whelp. One of Aela’s elbows flew back and hit Lissa in the face, and she staggered backward. I grabbed Aela by the waist, pulling her off of Njada as Vilkas pulled the Companion away from us. Aela spit at her as Vilkas moved to make sure Lissa was okay.

            “A beating will be like Sovngarde compared to what I’ll do if you ever say something like that again.” Aela growled at Njada. “Understood, whelp?”

            Njada nodded, her face becoming purple around her jaw. It was the only fight she’d ever lost in Jorrvaskr.

            I carried Aela outside, and Vilkas and Lissa followed. Once we were in the training yard, I put Aela down. The four of us stood together in a Circle. Aela leaned her head against my upper arm as she tried to smooth her hair. “Thank you, Farkas.”

            “You’re welcome.” I said, smoothing her hair for her. She looked at me gratefuly. I looked at Vilkas, who was wiping blood away from Lissa’s nose.

            Aela walked toward her, then hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Lissa.”

            “It’s fine, Aela. I underestimated your kick-back.” They both laughed.

            Vilkas put a hand on my shoulder, and we walked back toward Jorrvaskr. Behind us, I could hear the women talking. Aela spoke quietly.

            “You and I have work to do.”

______________________________________________________________________________

            I sat with my brother at the long table of food in the mess hall. Vilkas had been on edge because Lissa and Aela had been going on secret adventures.

            “Stop worrying.” I told him, breaking off a piece of bread.

            He groaned. “I can’t just stop worrying, Farkas. It would be one thing if they were just, I don’t know, wandering through town, or visiting people.”

            “They’re Companions, Vilkas. Not housewives.”

            He elbowed me. “Don’t take me for a misogynist, brother. I’m well aware that they are warriors.” He shifted uncomfortably. “What bothers me is that Kara won’t tell me what it is. She just says she’s doing work for Aela.”

            “So?” I didn’t understand.

            Vilkas groaned again, leaning back in his chair. “Kara always tells me what she’s doing, even if it’s not important. She gives details, even tiny, silly details. Extravagant tales of danger and excitement, even if she just walks across Whiterun. With this, not a word.”

            “I know what they’re doing.” I admitted to him with a sigh.

            My brother blinked at me for a moment. “That’s not funny.” he said.

            I shrugged. “Not joking.”

            “What is it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “Don’t want them to get in trouble. You’ll tell Kodlak.”

            Vilkas slammed his fist on the table. “You’re damned right I’ll tell Kodlak if they’re doing something that could get them killed.”

            “Aela asked me not to tell.”

            “Put your interest in her aside for a moment to tell me what’s going on!” he yelled at me.

            I smacked the back of his head. “And you put your interest in Lissa aside for a moment to keep your nose out of it.”

            He rubbed the back of his head, glaring at me. I leaned back in my chair, looking around the unusually empty room. Vilkas leaned back too, looking at me still. “What if they died out there, brother? What if they never came back, and you knew they could be in danger?”

            I thought for a moment. I thought about the conversation Aela had shared with me a few days before.

            _“I’m only telling you because if something happens, someone should know. I hate lying to everyone, but this has to be done.” Aela looked up at me. Her eyes were beautiful and blue. “Farkas, you won’t tell, right?”_

_“Not unless I have to.”_

            I thought for a moment about if I had to. I didn’t want to betray Aela. Then, I thought about Lissa carrying her back to Jorrvaskr. I thought about Lissa’s face. I thought about Skjor’s body.

I took a deep breath, then leaned toward my brother, telling him everything.


	13. A Moment of Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kodlak has an assignment for Karalissa.
> 
> POV: Kodlak

            Dreams of Sovngarde, washed away in a night’s sleep. Though that night was so long ago, it had occupied my thoughts since the morning I woke, and relayed the information to the young Companions who made up the Circle.

            Since I had learned of my disease, I had thought of nothing but Sovngarde. Lush green grass beneath purple skies, the chanting of warriors past emanating through the cool air, guiding me toward Tsun’s mead hall, where I could feast for all eternity.

            The Rot had come unexpectedly, and I woke one morning without my usual appetite. I tried to ignore it, but by the time Vilkas dragged me to a priestess of Kynareth, it was too late. There was nothing that could be done.

            Then I had the dream, and it told of my fate, of Skjor and Aela’s fate. Of my boys’ fate. But more than that, I met my predecessor.

            Unfortunately, I knew long before Skjor’s death that he was not destined to lead the Companions after my passing. I knew exactly who she was, where she was, but I had no way of knowing how long I had to find the cure.

            More than for myself, though. Sovngarde was my dream, but I wanted the cure for Farkas and Vilkas. They had been my boys since Jergen left them here, knowing I wouldn’t have the heart to give them up. They were so small then, just six years old, but so intelligent, and so kind hearted. As much as I tried to be only a mentor to them, I found myself swelling with the pride of a father every time I saw them swing a blade.

            So when Vilkas came to me with the news, I tried to act as quickly as possible.

            “Master, I feel obligated to inform you of this.”

            I had laughed. “Vilkas, as I have told you many times before, I am no one’s master. What is it you have to share?”

            “Apologies, Kodlak.” He had taken a breath. “Aela and Karalissa have been systematically attacking the Silver Hand. Stealing plans from them, killing their men. Farkas knew before I did, but he felt obligated to protect Aela and Kara.” He sighed, sitting in the seat across from me as he so often did. “But it is for the same reason I tell you. I feel obligated to protect them, and I fear they may get themselves killed.”

            “Thank you for bringing this to me, son. I will handle it.” I had told him.

            When the knock came at my door, I welcomed her in. I had already spoken to Aela, and I had no doubt that she would send Karalissa my way.

            When she entered, she looked exactly as she had in my dream. So graceful in her every movement, long hair flowing over her shoulders, a scar dominating the right half of her face. I felt so much pride, seeing her stand before me, knowing she’d been caught, but facing me still.

            She seemed to sense what I was feeling, but she spoke anyway. “You wanted to see me?”

            I nodded to her. “Yes, youngling. Thank you for coming. Have a seat.”

            Karalissa nodded, removing the bow from her shoulder and placing it against the bookshelf next to the seat she took. She sat straight, showing me respect as she waited for me to speak.

            “I hear you’ve been busy of late.”           

            She took a moment to consider whether or not she should tell me the truth. Then, she nodded. “Aela and I are working to avenge Skjor’s death.”

            I sighed. “Your hearts are full of grief, and my own weeps for the loss of Skjor. But his death was avenged long ago. You have taken more lives than honor demanded. The cycle of retaliation may continue for some time.”

            She furrowed her brow then. “How did you find out?”

            “I’m shocked to think Aela could keep a secret from me with all the drunken rabble around here. However, Vilkas brought the information to me.”

            She leaned back in her chair. “I see. It is hard to determine where to draw the line, between vengeance and slaughter. It became difficult to control myself, Harbinger. I apologize for lying to you.”

            I nodded to her, admiring her valor in honesty. “In any case, I have a task for you. Have you heard the story of how we came to be werewolves?”

            “Skjor said it was a gift from Hircine.”

            Laughing, I nodded again. “Aye, that sounds like him. As in all matters of faith, though, the reality is more complicated than one believer would tell you.”

            “So what is the truth, then?”

            “The Companions are nearly five thousand years old. This matter of beastblood has only troubled us for a few hundred. One of my predecessors was a good, but short-sighted man. He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Coven. If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, we would be granted great power.”

            Her brow was furrowed again. “And they became werewolves?”

            “They did not believe the change would be permanent. The witches offered payment, like anyone else did. But we had been deceived.”

            “Were the witches hunted for their trickery?”

            I placed a hand over hers. “We’ll get to that. It’s not as simple as killing them, though. The disease, you see, affects not just our bodies. It seeps into the spirit. Upon death, werewolves are claimed by Hircine for his Hunting Grounds, as I’m sure you’re familiar with. For some this is paradise. They want nothing more than to chase prey with their master for eternity.”

            She shook her head, the fear I had seen so many weeks ago returning to her eyes. “It’s no place for us, Kodlak. I don’t understand how anyone could wish it upon themselves.”

            “It is their choice. But I am still a true Nord. I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home.”

            “As do I, Kodlak.” She leaned forward. “Is there a way to cure lycanthropy?”

            “That’s what I’ve spent my twilight years trying to find out. And now, I’ve found my answer. The witches’ magic entered us, and only their magic can release us. They won’t give it willingly, but we can extract their foul power by force.”

            “What can I do to help you, Kodlak?”

            “I want you to seek them out. Go to their coven in the wilderness. Strike them down as a true warrior of the wild. And bring me their heads. The seat of their abilities. From there, we may begin to undo centuries of impurity.”

            She spent a moment in thought, but she nodded. “It shall be done, Harbinger.”

            “Talos guide you, lass.” I said to her as she strode from the room. Once the doors were closed, I rubbed my face with my hands. I hoped I was right about the witches, for myself and the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! I enjoy reading all of your feedback!


	14. A Moment Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa and Vilkas have a fight. Later, Aela and Karalissa's actions have caught up with them, and there are intruders in Jorrvaskr.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            I stood with Farkas, our ears pressed against my bedroom door. We both wobbled a bit, but leaning against the solid frame helped steady us. We were trying to listen to the conversation Lissa and Vilkas were having in her room across the hall.

            “Why are you leaving so suddenly?” Vilkas had asked her. There was shuffling in her room, like she was packing quickly.

            “Kodlak has given me a task.” was all she responded with. Her voice sounded irritated.

            “What kind of task?”

            “It’s of a personal nature, Vilkas.” she said as more shuffling continued.

            “Kara, if it’s personal and in relation to Kodlak, I don’t understand why I cannot know.” he grumbled to her, no doubt crossing his arms and pouting. Imagining him made me laugh quietly, and my laugh distracted Farkas.

            “I’m not saying that the information is not yours to know. I am saying it’s not mine to tell.” she was closer to the door now. “If you need to know so badly, talk to Kodlak. Talos knows that’s your favorite hobby.”

            “What are you getting at?” Vilkas said in a lower voice.

            “It was not your place to tell Kodlak what Aela and I were doing. I was going to come to him. Confess. You took that from me.” I looked at Farkas, and he shrugged to me before we both pressed our ears to the door again.

            “I know that, and I’m sorry. You have to understand that I was worried, Kara.”

            “What, do you think we can’t handle ourselves? Do you think us to be in need of constant watch and protection?” she was whispering harshly, trying not to yell.

            “No, Kara, of course not.”

            “Did you think it was wrong? To seek justice for Skjor?” I felt myself wince at his name, but I shook it off quickly.

            “No!”

            “Then what?!”

            Vilkas sighed. “I can’t lose you, Kara.” They were both quiet for a moment. “When Farkas told me, all I could think about was seeing you all bloodied and bruised when you returned from Gallows Rock. You were beaten to death, and very nearly remained in the Hunting Grounds. You were in so much pain, not just physically, but in your soul.”

            “Vilkas…”

            His voice was quieter then. “I thought about walking with my brother to retrieve Skjor’s corpse. I remembered carrying him home, and listening to my brother try to suppress his tears as he held a fallen brother in his arms.” I looked at Farkas again, whose face had fallen significantly. I reached for his hand, and held it as I pressed my ear again to the door. He squeezed it tightly.

            “Vilkas, I—”

            “Think about how he would feel if he lost Aela, too. Think about how you would feel if you had to carry Aela back here once again.” There was another moment of silence. “Think about how I would feel if you were lost. I couldn’t take it, the pain.” He paused a moment. “I apologize for telling Kodlak, but I will not apologize for the way I feel about you, Kara.”

            “You shouldn’t apologize, Vilkas. I’m sorry I put that burden on you.” Lissa whispered.

            “It’s not a burden, Kara. It’s simply not something I’m willing to risk.” I heard one of them walk toward the other, and they held each other outside of my door.

Farkas squeezed my hand again. He leaned toward me and whispered. “Told you so.”

            I nudged him. “So he does fancy her. I owe you a pint.”

“Another?” he asked. We both laughed quietly, then continued listening.

            “I’m going to retrieve a witch’s head. The Glenmoril Coven, like the legends. Kodlak thinks he’s found a cure.”

            “I hope he has, for his own sake.” They paused a moment. “Kara—”

            “I’ll be fine, grumpy. I promise.” There was movement as Lissa moved away from him. “We’ll talk about this when I get back.”

            “Alright. Come back soon, pup.” Vilkas said to her. I heard Lissa’s quiet laugh as she left, her footsteps silenced by her cloth boots.

            I cracked the door just enough to poke my head out. Farkas stuck his head out above me. Vilkas looked up at us from where he stood. His face was so love-stricken, but when he saw us, it immediately transitioned to annoyance.

            I raised an eyebrow at him. “Pup?”

            He groaned. “Shut up.” Farkas was laughing quietly, and that irritated Vilkas even more. He turned on his heel and stomped to his room. When we heard his door slam, Farkas and I burst into gales of laughter. I nearly fell onto the ground outside of my door, but Farkas caught me, and he hopped toward his brother’s room.

            He didn’t bother with knocking. Farkas opened the door, and started laughing all over again. When I looked in, I saw Vilkas in his bed, curled up with a pillow over his head. I, too, couldn’t contain my laughter.

            Vilkas threw the pillow, hitting Farkas in the face. “I don’t see what you find so funny!” he shouted at us.

            “It’s true!” Farkas shouted.

            “What is?” Vilkas asked, sitting up on his bed.

            Farkas sputtered through his laughter. “Lissa is a puppy!” Farkas and I doubled over on the floor leaning against each other and hugging as we lost all of our dignity in front of Vilkas.

            As I wiped tears from my eyes, I saw Vilkas standing over us. “Ysgramor’s beard, you two are drunk.”

            I held up three fingers, trying to indicate something that made sense to me, but apparently not to him. “Only a little.”

            “Tell Kodlak, Vilkas. Tell on us.” Farkas said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and resting his chin on the top of my head.

            From the doorway, we heard a voice. “Tell Kodlak what?” We looked up to see the Harbinger standing in the frame, his hands on his hips, staring down at us.

            Farkas and I straightened up, still giggling. Vilkas leaned against the divider near his bed, looking at us with his arms crossed. I wobbled a bit, and Farkas steadied me with a hand on my back.

            “They’re drunk as sailors, Kodlak.” Vilkas said, laughing behind us. “I’ve never seen them this euphoric.”

            “What’s the occasion, younglings?” Kodlak asked, chuckling beneath his white beard.

            Farkas and I exchanged a look, then we both shrugged. “We’re celebrating being able to possess such fine liquor, Harbinger.” I said to him, and Farkas started to laugh again.

            Kodlak laughed loudly. “As good a reason as any, Companions. Try not to get too reckless.” he said to us. Then he turned to the only sober one in the room. “Vilkas, I seek your council. Join me in my chambers.”

            Vilkas followed him immediately. “Of course, Kodlak.” Before he left us, he shot us a menacing glance.

            Once they were gone, Farkas guided me to the table outside of Vilkas’ room, and we sat for a few moments in blissful silence. He looked at me before he spoke. “Should we try to sober ourselves?”

            I sighed. “I suppose so. It was fun while it lasted.” I grabbed a piece of bread out of a bowl on the table, and began to rip pieces off and pop them into my mouth. “So your brother is smitten with the puppy.”

            We both laughed for a moment before Farkas spoke. “I’m not sure why the word puppy is so funny to me.”

            “I think you may be drunk, Farkas.” I laughed, flicking a piece of bread at him. I was reminded, then, of a memory, so long ago and still so recent. I had sat with the Circle, next to Skjor, flicking bread at the twins as they watched Lissa leave the mead hall. I remembered how kind Skjor had been to Lissa, offering to train her.

            Farkas put his hand over mine, sensing I was away for a moment. He smiled at me, reminding me that everything was okay now. He had been so nice to me over the weeks since Skjor’s passing. Farkas spent every moment at my side, talking to me about everything he knew, and listening to me talk about my memories of Skjor. It had been very painful at first, but now it was relieving to just talk, and have someone to listen.

            I smiled back at him, grateful for his company, and for his allowance that I eat his last loaf of bread.

______________________________________________________________________________

            Farkas and I had been called to Kodlak’s chambers a few hours after. Vilkas had stood against the bookshelf in the corner, and the Harbinger had gestured for us to sit. I took a chair next to Farkas, both of us looking at Kodlak with curious eyes.

            “Have the two of you sobered up enough to comprehend a conversation?” he asked us, a sly smile beneath his beard.

            Farkas just shrugged, but I nodded. “I believe so, Kodlak. Apologies for our misconduct.”

            He had laughed. “Never apologize for something that brings you joy. Sometimes, you have to let loose. Things get too serious here.” He stood before he continued, walking toward his desk in the corner. “That being said, this conversation is of a serious nature.”

            “What is it, Kodlak?” Farkas asked, his brow furrowed.

            “As I’m sure you heard from an argument held in the hallway just a short time ago,” he looked at Vilkas, his eyes twinkling with humor. “I’ve sent Karalissa to retrieve a witch’s head for me.”

            “We heard, of course.” I said. “I’m not exactly sure why you need a dead hag’s head.”

            “I believe I may have found a cure, younglings.” he said, a small brown book in his hands. “If my thoughts are correct, we could all be cured.” he looked at me, a crooked smile on his face. “That is, of course, if you wish to be cured.”

            Farkas smiled. “This is great news, Kodlak.”

            The Harbinger nodded. “Yes, son. However, I feel there is something I must share with you before Karalissa returns.” He turned the book over in his hands. “You all recall the dream I shared with you, yes?”

            We all nodded, and Vilkas spoke. “The dream about the Hunting Grounds. A premonition, truly, for you were correct.”

            “Aye.” Kodlak said, setting the book down in the desk drawer in front of him. “There was more to the dream, though, that I wish to share with you.” He leaned against the desk, his legs clearly weak from standing for so long. “There was a stranger in my dream, someone I had never—”

            Kodlak’s words were cut short by a scream in the hall. We all bolted upright, jumping to our feet and running from the room. Even Kodlak was right behind us, The Rot not holding him back from the worry he had.

            In the hall, a man held a blade against Tilma’s throat. Vilkas dashed ahead of us, leaning low and ramming his entire body into the man’s legs. He flew to the ground with the man, landing on top of the intruder and bludgeoning his face with his fists. Kodlak came up right behind Vilkas, drawing a Skyforge blade and driving it through the stranger’s chest.

            As the two of them rose from the floor, Farkas helped Tilma up. He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to a chair in the corner nearby.

            “Are you alright, Tilma?” I asked her.

            “There are more.” she said, her hand over her heart. “In the mead hall.”

            We whipped toward the stairs, yanking the door open and rushing up to the eating area. The place was cluttered with outsiders, all fighting the Companions with silver weapons.

            “Silver Hand.” Vilkas said, pulling his greatsword from his back.

            We all rushed forward, fighting amongst the Companions who did not understand why the strangers were here. The only thing they knew of the Silver Hand were that they disliked the Companions.

            I ran toward Ria, who was very narrowly escaping a blade to the face. I drove my sword through the man’s back, and he fell to the floor. We nodded to each other as we separated, both looking for people to help.

            Farkas was fighting three Silver Hand off in the corner. He simply swung his arm back and knocked a woman into the wall, and sliced the chests of the men lunging at him with blades. They fell quickly, and Farkas spun around to slice at the woman he had knocked back.

            A woman ran up to me, a dagger in her left hand. I ducked as she swiped at my face, and I grabbed her feet, pulling them out from underneath her. She landed hard on her back, grunting as I hopped on top of her and punched her in the face. I yanked the blade from her hand, and held it at her throat.

“Silver has no dire effect on wolves. We’re not afraid of metal. You followed blindly to the stupidity of cowards.” I released her throat and drove the blade through her chest. As she grunted in death, I spoke again. “Seems to have some effect on you, though.”

            I stood looking around for more invaders. I saw Vilkas and Kodlak near the fire pit, fighting two of the last intruders. Vilkas’ sword was knocked away from his suddenly, and as the man he fought reached up to bring down the blade, Vilkas caught it between his metal gloved hands, pushing back against the force of the blade. They struggled against each other, fighting for the upper hand.

            Next to him, Kodlak blocked all blows, but watched Vilkas struggling to gain control as the blade he held inched closer and closer to his exposed throat. Kodlak’s eyes widened, and I ran toward them, hoping to assist them both. Farkas came running too, but he was too far away, hopping over fallen bodies and confused Companions.

            Kodlak’s legs gave out beneath him, and he fell on his back. The man above him held a sword at his chest, and Kodlak held the man’s hands, keeping the blade away from him. Kodlak looked up at Vilkas, who was so near to having his throat slit, and Kodlak’s eyes changed. I was so close to him, to helping, when Kodlak let go of the man’s blade to grab the leg of Vilkas’ attacker. He pulled the invader’s legs out from underneath him, and he fell to the ground just as the blade went through Kodlak’s chest. I reached the scuffle moments after and dropped to the ground, stabbing the man who had attacked Vilkas repeatedly until he died.

            Kodlak’s attacker had fled moments after, running from Jorrvaskr and into the streets of Whiterun. Vilkas crawled to Kodlak, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. Farkas arrived not moments later. We all crouched over him, all a moment too late, watching tears stream from his eyes as he looked back at us.

            He reached up, placing a hand on Vilkas’ face. “Are you alright, son? Did he hurt you?”

            Vilkas shook his head. “No, master. But you, you’re hurt badly.”

            Kodlak laughed, coughing as he did so. “Vilkas, I’ve told you so many times, I am nobody’s master.” He looked around at us, his face streaked with tears. “I’m dying, younglings.”

            Farkas shook his head, crying loudly now. “No, we can fix you. We’ll take you to the temple. They can heal you.” He looked around the room. “Someone get Tilma!”

            Kodlak laughed again, holding Farkas’ hand. “It’s not worth the time and resources, Farkas. I’m an old, dying man. I was bound to die soon anyway.” He looked at me then, reaching for my hand, which I took. “Please, tell Karalissa to find my journal. She needs to find it and read it.”

            I was confused, but I nodded. “Of course, Kodlak. I will.”

            He let go of me then, and reached up to put his hands on both of the twins’ faces. “You have always been my sons. You always will be. Take care of each other, boys. For me. For each other.”

            Vilkas and Farkas nodded, and just like that, Kodlak was gone. We all heard his breathing stop, his heartbeats fade away, and then all the heat left his body.

            We all sat on the floor staring blankly at the lifeless form below us. Farkas began to sob loudly, and so did the whelps in the room. Torvar and Athis had begun moving bodies out of the mead hall, but the rest just sat, wide-eyed and confused.

            I looked at Vilkas, who just stared back at me. I sat back, off of my knees, and held Kodlak’s head in my lap. Then, I looked toward the door, willing Lissa to return soon.


	15. Reaping Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa returns to Jorrvaskr just a moment too late. Vilkas and Karalissa seek vengeance. 
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            I returned from my head-hunt, the witch’s head wrapped in a towel and tucked into the bag I carried over my shoulder. She hadn’t been difficult to conquer, one well-placed arrow doing the trick. As I pulled the door of my home open, I noticed something very wrong, and I still cannot fathom the words to express what I felt when I entered Jorrvaskr.

The mess hall was just that, a mess. Of course, by that I mean a bigger mess than usual. Food flung across the room, chairs and tables flipped, blood spattered across the floor. I thought for a moment that maybe Njada had been picking fights again. Then, I registered the unsettling grief that overcame the room. It was eminent in the center of the room, closer to the living quarters. I met the gaze of Torvar, who simply looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

            I followed the dense air toward that specific spot, and I first noticed Vilkas standing above three figures on the floor. His face was speckled with blood, and carried an emotion I couldn’t quite pin at first, but I soon registered it as sorrow. Aela was near him, hunched over another person on the ground.

Then I saw Farkas. Of all of the images from that night, his face is the one burned into my brain. Usually burly and confident, Farkas was a lump on the ground. Slumped over crossed legs on the floor, he was weeping quietly, his dark war paint running down his cheeks. I went to him, passing a lot of sobbing Companions, blocking any view I had of the area surrounding Farkas.

            I saw then that it was Kodlak on the ground, pale and uneasy in death. His body was limp, much like Skjor’s had been. Aela held his head in her lap, rocking back and forth slowly, and she winced every time Farkas let out a soft whimper.

I dropped to my knees near Aela, putting my hands on Kodlak’s face. His eyes were open, his face pained. I used the tips of my fingers to brush his lids closed. After he had been so ready to cure himself, his death was sought too quickly by the hands that hunted the very thing he sought to be rid himself of.

“What is this?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“The damned Silver Hand. They came here, infiltrated our home. They killed him, Kara. And they made off with our pieces of Wuuthrad.” Vilkas growled to me. He was radiating rage, every inch of him angry. Looking down at his brother, though, some anger leaving his body and being replaced by concern.

Even still, he kneeled by Farkas, gripping the back of his brother’s neck and pressing his forehead to Farkas’. Farkas cried harder, snaking his hand up to Vilkas’, holding his brother’s temple as close to his own as he could. I felt a pang of pain in my heart. The only man who had ever been a father to them, the man who _was_ their father in so many ways, was dead.

I looked around the room, seeing that none of our people were hurt. A few were moving the bodies of dead Silver Hand, but our only lost member was Kodlak. The witch’s head was heavy in my satchel, taunting me as I stared at its lost purpose.

“It’s my fault.” Aela whispered. “If I hadn’t—”

“Stop.” I said to her. Kodlak’s blood coated her hands. “It’s just as much my fault.”

“I made you help me. Kodlak is dead because of me.” She was beginning to panic. “Skjor is dead because of me.” I reached for her hand, and she gripped it tightly. Farkas held her other hand, and with Vilkas’ head pressed to Farkas’, the four of us formed a protective ring for each other.

As the twins separated, my eyes met Vilkas’ gaze. He wasn’t looking at Kodlak, as the rest of us were. He was staring right at me. He shook his head, looking me up and down. I noticed then I was shaking furiously, on the verge of transforming. I closed my eyes, trying to gain some control over the beast. I looked at Vilkas, trying to remember our conversation from the morning before, or our trip shopping through Whiterun, anything but this. He was watching me, his gray eyes were softer than they usually were. He was taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm me down without drawing attention to me. I matched my breathing with his, my heartrate lowering significantly.

I looked back at the scene, my eyes darting between Kodlak’s body and Farkas, and I felt myself trembling again. I was upset, my heart broken for Kodlak, but I was growing increasingly furious. Enraged that Kodlak died so abruptly. Enraged that his family had to watch. Enraged that he wouldn’t go to Sovngarde, his dying wish. A low growl built in the back of my throat.

Vilkas patted his brother’s head, then moved toward me. He extended his hand to me, which I took gratefully. He pulled me to my feet, and placed his hands on my shoulders. Now that he was closer, I could see him shaking too. His eyes held an anger I hadn’t seen before.

“You and I will handle this. We will bring battle to their chief camp. There will be none left living to tell their stories. Only songs of Jorrvaskr will be sung. For Kodlak.” He said to me.

I nodded to him, unable to do anything but tremble in rage. “For Kodlak.” I whispered. I felt Farkas reach out and touch my leg.

I looked down at him, his face crumpled in sadness. “For Kodlak.”

Aela still held Farkas’ hand, their fingers entwined. She looked at Vilkas. “For Kodlak.”

Vilkas pulled me toward the exit, his arm draped around my shoulder and his cheek pressed against the top of my head. We walked outside, never pulling away or breaking our embrace. To the people of Whiterun, we looked like we were grieving, holding on to each other for dear life. Vilkas and I both knew that’s not what was happening. We were clinging to each other for control, knowing we wouldn’t transform so close to each other.

We made it through the gates of Whiterun, still holding onto each other, his arm over my shoulder, my arms wrapped around his torso. His shaking combined with mine made it nearly impossible to see, and I was guided solely by Vilkas’ movements and the smell of the trees. We were nearing the edge of the woods when our shaking picked up to an unforgiving pace.

I shoved him away from me, feeling my neck twitch uncontrollably as the bones in my arms broke and expanded. I looked toward Vilkas, who was shaking his head violently as he grew in height, becoming more gigantic than he already was.

We were under the cover of the trees now, and we took off running, still mid-transformation. The bones in my back were breaking, causing me to double over as I ran with a limp as my legs stretched. I could hear Vilkas screaming as loud as he could, releasing the anger he felt in his soul. I heard his screams transition into howls as I watched his face stretch into a snout.

We dropped to our knees, hands hitting the ground as our backs arched, fur growing from our flesh and claws from our fingers. We erupted into a fit of howls, raising to our feet, now fully transformed. We looked at each other, both of us absorbing the other in our wolf forms. Vilkas’ fur was sleek and silver, a great contrast next to my black fur. He was a good deal larger than me, but I seemed to be quicker.

In unison, we both inhaled the air surrounding us, tracking the scent of the werewolf hunters. We both took off, sprinting toward the Silver Hand’s fort headquarters. The only thought on our minds Kodlak.

            The trees had become a green blur long before we arrived at the fort. I bolted on all fours toward the lingering scent of Kodlak’s blood on someone’s hands, somewhere in the fields ahead of us. His killer must have escaped Jorrvaskr, and I could smell the pride of a kill that surrounded him. Vilkas smelled it too, a silver blur beside me.

            _“Mine.”_ I heard in my head. A whisper, barely audible, but recognizable as we approached the werewolf hunter. A voice I’d grown quite fond of over my time in Jorrvaskr. I nodded to him, unsure if I could respond.

            Kodlak’s killer was in our line of sight now. Vilkas growled, dashing forward at a terrifying speed. The Redguard heard him approach, though he could do nothing but run for dear life as Vilkas quickly closed the distance between them.

            The gray wolf pounced on top of him, thrashing against the killer’s chest with his large claws. The Redguard began to scream, and Vilkas sank his teeth into the man’s throat, ripping out his vocal chords, which he spit to the side. The wolf ripped off both of the man’s arms at once, throwing them behind him as he continued to claw at his chest.

            Vilkas stood over the werewolf hunter, his snout a mere inch from his face. He was breathing heavily, panting over the dying form, but he waited, making sure that his was the last face the Redguard saw as he faded into death.

            The wolf straightened, gray fur stained copper from the life he’d taken, and he looked at me. _“Fort.”_ I heard in my head, and I nodded, following him as we ran toward the tower in the near distance.

            Outside, men waited for us. I jumped on top of the man closest to me, snapping his neck with my jaws. Vilkas simply smacked the man running at him to the side, and he flew a great distance into the woods.

            We stomped into Driftshade Refuge, ready to unleash the wrath of Hircine. I thought once more of Farkas and Kodlak, the wake of disaster that rested uneasily within Jorrvaskr, and whatever doubt I had in my mind about this was erased. I looked to Vilkas, waiting for command. He looked down at me, blood still dripping from his jaws, and placed one word in my mind.

            _“Kill.”_

______________________________________________________________________________

            We were running again, through the forest, covered in blood. We weren’t traveling in the direction of Jorrvaskr, though, and I was unsure where Vilkas was leading me. As we came to a clearing of sorts, he stopped, standing in the center and panting heavily. I stood about twenty yards from him, clutching the fragments of Wuuthrad in my paw.

            Inhaling, I sensed people nearby. Bandits, from the musk. I looked to Vilkas, but he was already running toward the scent. I followed quickly behind him, trying to stop him. They’d done nothing to us. I couldn’t let him kill them.

            By the time I’d caught up to him, it was too late. Three bodies lay next to a small pond, and Vilkas stood over them, his mouth dripping crimson once again.

            I walked to him slowly, bumping my nose against his shoulder to get his attention. He whipped his head toward me, growling.

            _“Leave.”_

            I shook my large head, telling him I wouldn’t leave him. He howled in my face, then used his nose to push my face away from him, facing me toward Whiterun.

            _“Home.”_

            I stood firm, looking back at him challengingly. I could feel him growing angry with me, and part of me felt stupid for testing a large wolf who just killed three people because he tasted blood. I knew he was hurting, though. Reeling from the night’s events.

            When he accepted that I would not leave, he howled once again, then hobbled off into the woods. I didn’t follow, but I heard the strangled screams of animals in the trees around me, giving away his location as he hunted.

            I dropped to my knees, feeling myself shrink back to my normal size. I rolled onto my back, looking up at the sky as my fur fell away from my skin, leaving me as nothing but skin and matted, tangled hair. I held up a hand to block the sun from my eyes.

            I took several deep breaths, trying to calm my racing mind. Vilkas and I had just killed upwards of thirty people. The Silver Hand no longer existed, and wolfish hands had scooped up Ysgramor’s sacred fragments. We had to return home in the near future, but what would we return to? Kodlak would have to have a funeral. Who would plan it? What would we do with his body? Who would take his place? Will Aela survive another loss? Will Farkas and Vilkas be able to handle the loss of their father figure?

            It was then that I noticed the blood on my hands. I bolted upright, crawling toward the pond and using the water to violently scrub at my skin. I caught sight of my reflection in the water’s surface, ripples accentuating the blood that caked my face and chest.

            I scooped up water and scrubbed my face with as much force as I could muster without hurting myself. I dunked my whole head in the water, staying submerged for a few moments as I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to rinse it from copper to its usual light brown. Lifting my head from the water, I wrung my hair out and made sure I was blood-free. I shuffled over to the dead bandits, pulling hide armor off of one of the women and covering myself. It was loose, but warm against my cold skin.

            Making my way toward the bandit camp, I sighed, clutching the pieces of Wuuthrad to my chest. I wandered through the fallen tower, used as a home for the bandits, looking for something to carry them in. I opened a small chest in the corner, finding nothing within but scrap linen. I figured I may need them, in case Vilkas had wounded himself in his hunt, so I tucked them into the hem of the furs I was wearing. I shut the container, and walked to a table on the other end of the room. A satchel was on top, and I emptied the contents to make room for the fragments.

            I walked back out of the camp, and saw Vilkas sitting on the water’s edge. He had transformed back into a Nord, and had also pulled hide armor from one of his victims. He sat, bare-chested and bloodied, staring at his own reflection in the water.

            I walked to him slowly, trying to make my footsteps loud so I wouldn’t startle him. I could feel shame emanate from him when he sensed me behind him, but he didn’t turn away from his reflection. I sat on my knees next to him, looking at his face below us.

            His black hair was slicked back with blood, and his face was almost unrecognizable. I pulled one of the linen scraps from my hip and dipped it in the water. The ripples I caused tainted his reflection, but he didn’t stop staring.

            Wringing out the cloth, I scooted closer to him. I placed my hand under his chin, using my fingers to turn his face toward me. Though he faced me, he didn’t look at me. His gaze stayed on the ground, and I felt his regret and sorrow and confusion.

            I used the cloth to wipe blood away from his cheeks, then his forehead and eyebrows. I dipped the cloth again to rinse the blood from it, then wiped his eyelids and cheekbones, removing his warpaint along with the blood.

            He looked at me then, his eyes light blue and full of thought. He touched my wet hair, then ran his thumb across the bridge of my nose. He left his hand against my cheek as he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

            “Shh.” I said to him. “You’ve done nothing to wrong me.”

            He furrowed his brow. “I killed all of those people. I lost my temper.” His eyes grew distant.

            “ _We_ killed all of those people. The same people who tried to kill us. The same people who killed Kodlak.” As I said the fallen Harbinger’s name, Vilkas winced.

            He looked around at the fallen bandits surrounding us. “But I killed these people. I couldn’t control myself.”

            I shook my head. “The beast wanted the blood. You said it yourself, it’s hard to control a hungry wolf.”

            He stared at me a moment, like he didn’t recognize me. Then, he simply nodded, seeming to accept my explanation for his actions. I pulled his hand away from my face, then guided him to dip his head in the water so I could rinse his hair.

            He brought his head back up from the water, and I ran my hands through his hair, untangling it and squeezing the water from it. He followed my eyes as I did all of this, looking absolutely traumatized.

            “How long has it been since you transformed?” I asked him, shaking the water from his hair.

            “It’s been months.” he said. His voice was quiet, like he was telling a secret.

            “It must have been painful, then.”

            “Aye.” was all he responded with. I sat next to him again, facing him, waiting for him to say something. He looked at me for a long time before he spoke. “Did I frighten you?”

            I shook my head. “No, Vilkas.”

            “You’re lying.” he said.

            “I’m not. I wasn’t afraid for a moment.” I pushed his wet hair away from his face. He looked so different without his warpaint. “You’re in pain. Kodlak was important to you, and you reacted passionately, just as I did. Just as anyone would have.”

            He nodded, grabbing my hand and placing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Aye.”

            I felt tears spring to my eyes suddenly, and I couldn’t hold them back. “Vilkas, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He opened his eyes, looking at me with confusion. “I should have been there to defend him. To defend everyone.”

            Vilkas brushed my hair behind my ear. “This fate was predetermined, already set in place. Nothing could have changed it. We just have to accept it.”

            “He didn’t go to Sovngarde, Vilkas.” I shut my eyes, trying to stop the tears.

            He wiped my wet cheeks. “I know. There’s nothing we can do about it, pup.” He brought my face up to his. I nodded, looking at him. His face crumpled suddenly, washed with sorrow and guilt.

            “I had so many things to say to him.” he said, his voice cracking. I put my hand on his cheek. He looked into my eyes, then pressed his forehead against mine. I felt him calming down as he held his head against my temple, and I felt his hand snake up to the back of my neck, gaining a firmer hold. Something about this embrace was comforting, more so than any other sort. I leaned against him, relaxing against his forehead.

            After a few moments, he opened his eyes, an inch or so from mine. Then, he tilted his head just enough to kiss me. It was simple and brief, as if he were asking permission. He pulled his face away from me, looking for my reaction. When I smiled, so did he, closing his eyes as we kissed again.

            Vilkas put his head on my shoulder, resting against me as we waited for the sun to set, to begin our travel to Whiterun, and whatever future awaited us there. I couldn’t help but smile, remembering the last time I made an undefined journey to Whiterun, and recognized all the good that it had brought me.

And though the best that Whiterun gave me rested his head against my shoulder, breathing softly against my neck as he radiated with both pain and happiness, I soon felt cold and empty, recognizing all of the bad that I had brought to them.


	16. A Day of Weeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Companions, as well as the majority of Whiterun, come together for Kodlak's funeral. Later, the Circle meets in the Underforge.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

            Our footsteps were heavy and slow as we made our way to Jorrvaskr, not bothering to try to mask the sounds of our travel. We both knew that there was no one hunting us anymore, so there was no need to muffle our steps.

            Kara’s hair was long and damp, yet slicked back and swinging between her shoulder blades as she walked. With her locks away from her face, the scar across her eye was prominent. I held her hand, our fingers locked together as we walked through the trees.

            She laughed suddenly, the sound like twinkling bells and made my heart skip. I looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “What’s so funny?”

            “Look at our armor, Vilkas.” She gestured to her hide armor, then mine. My chest was exposed, leaving me cold in the crisp night air. It was so unfamiliar, as I was so used to heavy wolf armor covering me. “We look ridiculous.”

            I shrugged to her, trying not to express my distaste for the armor. “It’s better than wandering back to Jorrvaskr without it.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Can you imagine the look on Farkas’ face?”

            “I can, unfortunately.” She squeezed my left hand, covering the top of it with her other hand. “Can I ask you something?”

            “Of course, pup.”

            “What was that…word thing?” I was confused for a moment. “When we were wolves. I could hear your voice in my head.”

            “Ah,” I said. “I’m not sure how to explain it exactly. I can just communicate in the wolf form.” I shrugged again. “Sort of like how you can feel others’ emotions.”

            “Does everyone carry a gift?” She was so genuinely curious, I couldn’t help laughing softly.

            “I suppose, in a way. Although, I wouldn’t call it a gift. Perhaps a perk.” My face fell, sadness washing over me again. “Kodlak had premonitions, of sorts.”

            Kodlak was gone. Any time I thought it, I felt an unfamiliar sadness in my soul. When Skjor had died, I had grieved, of course, but it felt nothing like this. It came in waves, each lapping at me, urging me to break. I couldn’t though. Not yet.

            Kara stopped me as we neared the edge of the woods surrounding Whiterun. I looked down at her as she placed her hand on the side of my face. “Vilkas, I can feel how much you’re hurting. I’m not saying you have to talk about it any time soon, but when you’re ready, I’m right here.”

            I covered her hand with my own. “I know, pup. Thank you.” She stood on her toes to kiss me softly, then pulled me toward Whiterun.

            Through the gate and up the hill, holding on to each other. We passed the shops, climbed the steps, and turned to face Jorrvaskr. Aela stood, leaning against the post, waiting for us. We walked slowly up the steps, Kara in front of me. When we were a few steps below Aela, we stopped.

            She looked over us, then handed us the bundle in her hands. “I figured these would be necessary.” As Kara took the bundle, Aela continued. “I was right.”

            Kara pulled the wolf armor from the bag, and handed it to me. I ran my hand over the wolf crest in the middle, worn with age, recognizing it immediately.

            “It’s Kodlak’s.” Aela said, nodding toward me. I shook my head, trying to hand it back to her, but she held up her hand. “Farkas said you deserved it.” I felt myself swell with happiness, then immediately felt the sorrow again, memories of Kodlak drowning my thoughts.

            Kara felt it to, and she squeezed my hand, holding it behind her back. She clutched leather armor to her chest, grateful for the familiar material, no doubt. “Thank you, Aela.”

            “Don’t worry about it.” was all she said before turning to walk toward the courtyard. “Meet us up at the Skyforge when you’re ready.”

            We watched her walk around the side of Jorrvaskr, then Kara turned back to me. “Are you okay?”

            “Fine, Kara.” I mumbled, trying to look reassuring. She knew of course that I was lying, but she nodded anyway. We walked inside of Jorrvaskr, and were greeted by an empty mess hall and absolute silence.

            Changing quickly, I waited for Kara near the fire pit in the center of the room. She emerged from the room off to the side of the mess hall, and I smiled crookedly at her familiar appearance.

            She took my hand, and we walked together to the Skyforge. At the top of the steep climb, we were greeted by the tears and soft glances of the rest of the Companions and the Gray-Manes. Much of the Cloud District was present too, Jarl Balgruuf and his housecarl standing in the mix of people. Eorland stood in front of the rest, facing away from the Skyforge. Kara and I took places next to Aela and Farkas. My brother placed his hand on my shoulder, and I nodded toward him, acknowledging the tears in his eyes.

            A large wooden perch was erected above the Skyforge, and Kodlak’s body rested on top, wrapped in a black blanket.

            Eorland spoke after a moment. “Who will start?”

            Aela stepped forward. “I’ll do it.” She faced Kodlak as she spoke. “Before the ancient flame…”

            Farkas and I spoke together, accompanied by the rest of Jorrvaskr. _“We grieve.”_

            “At his loss,” Eorland said.

            In unison again, all of the Companions spoke. _“We weep.”_

            I spoke next. “For the fallen,”

            _“We shout.”_

            Farkas’ voice came finally. “And for ourselves,”

            _“We take our leave.”_

            Aela stepped forward with a torch, lighting the wood beneath Kodlak, and igniting the Skyforge once again. We all stood in silence as we watched the flames dance around. I felt Kara’s arm wrap around my torso, and I lifted my arm around her shoulders, holding her close to me. I saw Farkas embrace Aela as she returned to her spot from the forge, holding her as she rested her head against his chest. We stood together, along with the rest of Jorrvaskr, and watched as the flames consumed Kodlak’s body.

            Aela stepped forward once again. “His spirit is departed. Members of the Circle, let us withdraw to the underforge, to grieve our last together.”

            As the weeping Companions departed, Eorland approached Kara. “Do you have the fragments of Wuuthrad still?” Kara nodded. “I’ll need to prepare them for mounting.”

            Kara handed him the bag across her chest. “We return them with honor.”

            “Don’t get soft on me, child.” Eorland said to her with a smile as he took the bag, then spoke again. “Of course, I have a small favor to ask of you, Lissa. I need a final piece, one that Kodlak was protecting himself. Would you go to his chambers and bring it back to me?” He looked at his feet. “I’m not sure I’m the best one to go through his things.”

            Kara nodded. “Surely, Eorland.” She turned to me, placing a soft kiss against my cheek. “I’ll meet you in the underforge.”

            “Alright, pup.” I released her hand, and watched her walk down the hill toward Jorrvaskr. I turned toward Aela and Farkas, who stood again entwined in each other. We nodded to each other, the walked toward the underforge together.

            Aela opened the secret door, and we all stepped inside. As the stone swung closed behind us, I leaned against the wall near the cauldron in the center. Farkas sat across the room on a stone perch facing the door. Aela sat next to him, resting her head against his shoulder. We sat in absolute silence for about ten minutes, listening to flames flickering above us.

            “What do we do now?” Aela asked us. “Who will guide us?”

            Farkas sniffled. “What would Kodlak have wanted?”

            I ran my hands over the sleeves of Kodlak’s armor, well fit against my own skin. I wasn’t sure what he would want, in all honesty. I was the one who was supposed to know him best, but I had no idea of how to honor him in this time.

            I sighed. “I suppose the Circle collectively leads the Companions until we have clear heads to make such a decision.” My brother nodded in agreement.

            “Wise, Vilkas.” Aela said, looking to me with approval. “I hope the Companions will honor such a decision. Talos knows they have a problem with Lissa.”

            “They’ll have to get over it if they wish to continue as Companions.” I said, meaning that in my soul.

            “They’ll be fine. We’ll keep Njada away from her.” Farkas said.

            Aela scoffed. “Better keep her away from me, too.”

            The entrance to the underforge opened again, and Kara entered the stone room. She was barefooted in her leather armor, her face sad and pale.

            “You lost your boots.” Farkas said from the corner he and Aela shared. The two did not let go of each other as Kara entered, but held on to the other still.

            Kara smiled softly. “I did, yes. No matter.”

            Aela laughed suddenly. “Do you not own any other shoes?”

            Kara shrugged. “I have no use for any other shoes.” Aela laughed again, louder this time.

            The barefoot Nord walked toward me, her face carrying such concern. She stood beside me, her hand on my arm. “Is there something we can do? Some way to help Kodlak?”

            I looked at her, her eyes wide and full of questions. I shook my head. “The old man had one wish before he died. And he didn’t get it. It’s as simple as that.” I ran my hand over the side of her face, trying to comfort the look of defeat that flashed across her face.

            Aela sat up, scooting away from Farkas for a moment. “Being moon-born isn’t so much of a curse as you might think, Vilkas.”

            I cocked my head to the side, staring at her. “That’s fine for you. But he wanted to be clean. He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde. But all that was taken from him.” Kara squeezed my arm, reminding me not to get angry with Aela.

            “And you two avenged him.” Aela said, leaning forward. She wasn’t challenging me, though. She was just thinking out loud.

            Farkas spoke beside her, his hand on her back. “Kodlak did not care for vengeance.”

            I nodded. “No, Farkas, he didn’t. And that’s not what this is about.”

            Kara leaned against the wall beside me. “We should be honoring Kodlak, regardless of our thoughts on the blood.” She nodded to me. “He wanted Sovngarde, and I didn’t make it back in time to give that to him.”

            Farkas shook him head at her. “Don’t blame yourself, Lissa.”

            Aela nodded, looking at me. “You’re right, Vilkas. It’s what he wanted, and he deserved to have it.”

            Farkas looked at me. “Do you remember the story, Vilkas?”

            “Aye, brother. I do.” Aela and Kara stared at us, waiting for some explanation. “Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even in death.”

            “The Legends of the Tomb of Ysgramor.” Farkas said.

            Aela laughed softly, as if she was remembering the tale. “There the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel.” She snorted again. “We can’t even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad. And it’s in pieces, Vilkas. Just as it has been for a thousand years.”

            Kara stepped toward the cauldron, leaning against the rim and looking into the blood at her own reflection. “Just because something is, doesn’t mean it must be.” She looked back up at Aela. “The blade is a weapon. A tool. Tools are meant to be broken, and repaired. Eorland has all of the pieces. He can fix it.”

            “If anyone can, it’s Eorland.” Farkas chimed in.

            Aela nodded. “The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad.” She looked at me. “Do you think it will work?”

            “I believe it could.”

            Kara nodded. “So we leave for the Tomb of Ysgramor, as soon as Eorland has repaired the blade.”

            I almost smiled. “I’ll relay our plan to him. See how soon he can finish.”

            Aela stood. “We should sleep. If the blade is finished by morning, we’ll need energy for travel.”

            We all nodded. Aela and Farkas left together, as close as they could get. Kara and I lingered behind, watching them leave.

            As the entrance closed again, Kara stepped away from the cauldron, moving to stand beside me again, leaning against the wall next to me. She rested her head on the cold stone, looking up at me.

            “We have to try.” I said to her. “Kodlak would want us to try.”

            “Of course, Vilkas.” I placed my hand on the side of her face again, trying to bring her some comfort.

            “Farkas is right. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

            She shook her head. “The Hunting Grounds is not the beautiful realm of hunt Aela thinks it to be. I was frightened. I know Kodlak would hate it there, and I couldn’t give him Sovngarde in time.”

            “You cannot blame yourself for poor timing.”

            She lowered her gaze. “But I can blame myself for bringing the Silver Hand to Jorrvaskr. That blame is mine to take.”

            “Kara—”

            “There’s nothing you can say that will make me feel differently. Aela told me to jump, and I jumped. I didn’t even ask how high. I killed because I was told, and I have to live with the fact that my carelessness killed Kodlak.” Tears sprung to her eyes, and I quickly pulled her into my chest.

            I held the girl close to me, trying to silence her cries. There was nothing I could do to comfort her, though. Her only thoughts were those of blame, and nothing but being reaffirmed by Kodlak would help her conscience.

            And there was nothing we could about that now.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight through the feels, guys! I know things are dark right now, but bare with me. 
> 
> I appreciate that you're all taking time to read. Seeing the numbers rack up is incredibly heartwarming. Please continue to leave feedback. I'm excited to hear what you all have to say!


	17. Day's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas and Vilkas grieve for the loss of Kodlak.
> 
> POV: Farkas

            I tried to sleep. I really did. The room felt too different, though, and I couldn’t rest.

            I was so used to the sounds of the Companions, arguing in the halls or laughing in the mess hall. Sometimes, I would even be woken up by a drunken fight. I would pretend to be mad, to quiet the whelps, but I didn’t really mind.

            Now, things were quiet. There was no arguing or laughing or fighting. Just quiet. Every few minutes, I could hear someone sniffle from the crack under my door. I couldn’t even hear Vilkas snoring, which was usually very loud and annoying.

            I sat up, not bothering to put on any armor. Vilkas couldn’t be far from Jorrvaskr, so there wouldn’t be any reason to defend myself. I put a blue shirt on and left my room, headed toward the mess hall.

            I stopped outside of Kodlak’s room. The doors were closed, but I could almost imagine Kodlak sitting at his table in the corner. Maybe reading a book or writing something.

            I walked away, though. I couldn’t stand there for much longer. I didn’t hear any noise from Aela or Lissa’s rooms, so they must have been asleep too.

            I walked up the steps, through the mead hall, and out to the training yard. I didn’t have to look very hard to find Vilkas. He was sitting on the steps right outside the door, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t wearing Kodlak’s wolf armor anymore. Just a black shirt.

            I closed the door as quiet as I could, then walked toward him. I sat down on the steps beside him, then looked up, trying to see what he was watching.

            “What are we looking at?” I asked.

            Vilkas sighed. “Sovngarde.”

            I nodded. “You’re thinking about Kodlak.”

            “Aye, brother.”

            I leaned back on my hands and looked at him. “Think out loud. I like to listen.”

            “We don’t have to do that.” Vilkas mumbled.

            “Yeah, but we’ll do it anyway.”

            My brother sighed again. “I keep thinking of ways this could have gone differently.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “He could have lived. If I had been just a moment quicker, maybe he wouldn’t be dead.”

            “You don’t know that for sure.”

            “But if I had been stronger, swung harder, our Harbinger would be alive. I can’t stop thinking that this is my—”

            I shrugged. “You can’t blame yourself.”

            Vilkas glared at me. “I can place blame however I see fit, Farkas.”

            “No, you can’t. You’re just upset.”

            “I’m not upset.”

            I laughed. “You can lie to a lot of people, brother. But you can’t lie to me.”

            Vilkas thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t have to tell you the truth, either.”

            “Nope. I already know the truth.”

            He snorted. “And what would that be?”

            I sat up, getting closer to him. “You’re hurt, just like I am. Your heart is broken, just like mine is. Kodlak was our father, more than Jergen. Now they’re both gone, and we’re orphans.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “And it hurts. It’s okay to hurt.”

            Vilkas shrugged my hand away. “Maybe it hurts you, but I’m fine.”

            I slammed my fist against the stone steps. “Stop lying to me, Vilkas. You can lie to Aela and Lissa and whoever else all you want. But you can’t lie to me. I won’t let you do that to me.”

            “It’s none of your business, Farkas!” He was sitting up straight now, staring at me and shaking. “I don’t want your help.”

            “Yeah? Well you need it.” I took a deep breath. “Our whole lives, you’ve been the smart one. The one who knows everything. So how come you can’t understand that the world isn’t against you? I’m not against you, brother!” I put my hand on his shoulder again. “And I’ve always been stronger. I have to be strong because you’re smarter. But I know that it’s okay to feel weak. Right now, I do. I feel weak and broken and empty because Kodlak is dead. So you have to stop thinking. Stop thinking about things you can’t change, and just be sad.”

            Vilkas stared at me for a moment. I could see the anger leaving his face. He looked away from me, facing forward and looking at the ground.

            Then, he started to cry.

            I had not seen my brother cry since we first arrived at Jorrvaskr. I’d never seen him anything but angry since then. He took a deep breath, trying to hold back, but then he was sobbing. He buried his face in his hands, and his hair fell to cover his face. I sat with him, letting him cry until he could speak again.

            His eyes were red and swollen, but he looked at me. “I miss him. I want to talk to him, and tell him that I admired him and that I still need him. I want to thank him for being our father because Jergen didn’t want to be.”

            “I know. I do too.”

            Vilkas was still crying, but he could talk a lot now. “I want the pain to stop. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

            I shrugged. “We can’t stop the pain. We just have to make room for it.”

            He looked at me again. His eyes were wild. “Kara blames herself. She thinks it’s her fault that he’s dead. I can’t convince her otherwise.”

            I nodded. “Aela does too, but she won’t say it. I hope it works, going to Ysgramor’s Tomb. They need it to work just as much as Kodlak does.”

            Vilkas nodded. “Aye, you’re right.”

            I patted my brother’s back. “You’re in love with Lissa.”

            He stared at me for a moment, like I was crazy. Then he relaxed, like he was realizing it himself. “Aye. I am.”

            “It’s really easy to tell. Has been since Skjor died.”

            He laughed. “Is that so?”

            “Yep.” I shrugged. “If it helps at all, I think I’m in love with Aela.”

            My brother stared at me. His eyebrows were wrinkled together, but he smiled. “Really? Now that’s interesting.”

            “You won’t say anything, though.”

            “And what makes you think I won’t, Farkas?”

            I nudged him. “Because if you do I’ll beat the hell out of you. And I’ll tell Lissa.”

            Vilkas thought about that. “Fine. I won’t say anything.”

            I laughed loudly. “Do you feel any better now?”

            Vilkas sighed. “I do, actually.” He looked at me. “Thank you, Farkas.”

            “You don’t have to thank me. I’m your brother. You just have to talk to me.”

            We sat together for a long time after that, looking at the sky and talking about little things. When we finally went back inside, I slept peacefully for the first time in a long time.

______________________________________________________________________________

            The Circle gathered in the underforge again. Without a Harbinger, and without the Circle, we had left the Companions to watch after themselves.

            Eorland handed me Ysgramor’s weapon, and I held it tightly. Running my hands over the screaming elf’s face carved into the side, I laughed. Then I handed it to Vilkas.

            “You should be the one to carry it. You and Lissa got the pieces back.”

            Vilkas took the blade, but he looked confused. “Then maybe Kara should hold the honor of carrying it.” He looked at Lissa. She stood next to Aela near the tunnel that lead to the fields of Skyrim. She had painted two stripes of black warpaint under both of her eyes.

            Lissa shook her head. “That’s okay, Vilkas. The honor is yours.”

            I nodded. “And Lissa has to carry that nasty head.”

            Aela laughed. “It reeks. Walk at least ten paces ahead or behind me.”

            Lissa shrugged. “It’s a dead witch’s head. Did you expect it to smell like baby’s breath and lavender?” She adjusted the strap across her chest that held the witch.

            Eorland laughed too, but still nodded to Vilkas. “Carry it with pride, son.” He walked to the tunnel’s entrance, ready to open the door for us.

            “I’ll watch the whelps while you’re gone. Bring honor to the Companions, and to yourselves.” He pulled the lever to open the secret entrance. “Gods be praised.” He said, moving to the side.

            We looked at each other. Then we all drew weapons, and ran toward the fields.


	18. Redemption Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Circle heads to Ysgramor's Tomb for once last attempt to cleanse Kodlak's soul.
> 
> POV: Aela the Huntress

            The four of us stood steady, unmoving against the wind that billowed around us. Our hair whipped around our faces, shielding our eyes, but not our unrelenting souls, from the tomb’s entrance. The sun was setting, and it was apparent that we couldn’t stand much longer under the rising moon’s beams. The glowing circle was full on that night, and the beasts within us were howling.

            I had my bow across my chest and a Skyforge sword drawn in my right hand. I had touched up my war paint, now a very dark teal that made my hair stand out, more fiery than its usual burnt umber red. I looked at the others, trying to read what was going through their minds.

Farkas, as it turned out, was not as empty-headed as I had once anticipated. After all of our nights spent talking and laughing and drinking, I found that he was very intuitive and perceptive. He looked at the entrance with determination, set on getting inside. He held a greatsword in his left hand, the carving on the handle matching that of his steel armor.

Vilkas looked angry, a scowl painted across his face as per usual. Even more so, he looked like he’d been crying. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were puffy, but his warpaint was darker than I’d ever seen it. He wore Kodlak’s armor, worn and darkened with age, but somehow strengthening his stance. Wuuthrad was held in both of his hands, relaxed but ready to be drawn. Both of the twins towered over me, standing barrel-chested in the face of our mission.

            Lissa stood between Vilkas and me, her dead witch in a bag draped across her shoulder and her bow in her right hand. Her long brown hair was flying behind her in the wind, catching in the satchel of arrows on her back. She had painted two black stripes under each of her eyes, accentuating the scar that adorned the right half of her face. It was a tribute to Skjor, I knew as soon as I saw it. She stood with her shoulders back, ready to face whatever lay in wait within the tomb.

            “We should move.” I said, gesturing to the rest of the Circle. They nodded, drawing weapons once more as we descended the steps to Ysgramor’s Tomb.

            Farkas pulled the door open, and we stepped inside. Down a small tunnel, Farkas lead the way to a small room, with no pathways leading to any extension of the tomb. A shrine of Ysgramor was erected in the center. Adorned with shriveled flowers and rotten tokens of gratitude, it was apparent that no one had been here in a long time.

            We walked all around the room, feeling the walls for secret doors and searching for handles or levers, but we found nothing. We were all grumbling in irritation, and then I noticed that Ysgramor’s hand was cupped, concrete fingers wrapped around an invisible blade.

            “Wuuthrad. It should open the way.” I said. Vilkas handed me the blade, heavy and solid as I slide it between Ysgramor’s anticipating fingers. The wall behind us shook, and the slab slid into the floor, similar to the underforge.

            Vilkas ran his hand through his hair and walked toward the shrine. He placed a gloved hand on the stone knee of Ysgramor, then sighed. “This is the resting place of Ysgramor, and his most trusted generals.” He looked at Lissa, then at me and Farkas. “You all should be careful. Watch yourselves.”

            “Are you not coming?” Lissa asked him. She creased her brow line as she walked toward him.

            Vilkas nodded. “Aye. I’ll stay here with Ysgramor.”

            “But why? We came all this way…” They stood near each other now, within reach but not touching.

“Kodlak was right. I let vengeance rule my heart. I regret nothing of what we did at Driftshade, but the others. The animals, the bandits. I do regret that. I can’t go any further with my mind fogged or my heart grieved.” Vilkas put his hand on the side of Lissa’s face, running his thumb across the scar over her eye. He leaned down to kiss her, soft and caring, on her expecting lips. It was the most human I’d ever seen him act. “Please be careful, pup.”

            Trying to lighten the mood, I chimed in. “Oh we’ll be careful too, Vilkas. Thanks for your concern.” Farkas laughed beside me.

            Vilkas rolled his eyes, pulling away Lissa to glare at me for a moment. Then he was serious again. “I expect you to be careful, make no mistake. I’ll wait here.”

            I nodded, and Lissa did too, stepping away from him and toward us. Farkas outstretched his arm to meet her back, pulling her toward the entrance with him. “Come on, little pup. Let’s go.” He and I laughed loudly, and I swear I almost heard Vilkas laugh too as we headed away from him.

            We walked through the hidden entrance, which led to a slight decline in stone pathway. As we descended, I sniffed the air. All of the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

            “No.” I shook my head, backing away. “Nope. You two deal with them.”

            Farkas and Lissa shared a confused look, then they both inhaled deeply. Lissa laughed, then explained. “She’s afraid of skeever.”

            “I’m not afraid! I just don’t like to look at them. Or be near them. Or talk about them.” I shivered, thinking of their gross tails and beady eyes.

            Farkas laughed. “I’ll handle it.” He rounded the corner, and I bounced around to try and drown out the sound of their muffled squeaks and cries of death.

            Lissa and I followed soon after, my nose turned up so I didn’t have to look at the dead rats. At the end of a winding path, we were greeted by three separate paths. On either side of the middle path, a standing tomb awaited.

            “Draugr?” Farkas asked. The tombs popped open then, and bluish ghostly figures emerged, wearing familiar faces of Companions past.

            “ _Who dares disturb our slumber?”_

            Lissa snorted. “Not draugr, Farkas.”

            Farkas stood in front of us, blocking the arrows and swings of the ghosts while Lissa and I knocked arrows, aiming for their luminescent throats. They each went down with one arrow, and we continued down the center path toward a large door.

            Through the door, there were countless phantom Companions, waiting for us to challenge them around a shallow pool of water. Farkas dove right in, charging down the steps and bludgeoning the ghosts, while Lissa and I drew our bows once more, spotting Farkas from our perch above him.

            One ghost came dangerously close to swiping Farkas across the back of his head, but Lissa and I caught him in unison, firing an arrow each that lodged its way into the phantom’s skull. After that, I charged in with my sword, unwilling to let anything happen to Farkas. Lissa followed behind me, her bow still drawn.

            She and I jumped into the water as Farkas climbed out. He was handling the phantoms that guarded the next room while Lissa and I took care of the stranglers.

            We took down twenty of the ghosts, each dressed in what seemed to be Companion’s armor from each generation, guarding the tomb of Ysgramor. Though they fought relentlessly, we were unbeatable, our hearts set on avenging Kodlak.

            Once the lot of them had fallen, we waded through the pool to meet Farkas. He waited above, his hand extended to help us out of the water, and we continued into the tomb. When we led us toward the next passage tunnel, he stopped cold in his tracks.

            “What is it?” I asked him.

            “I can’t go any further, Shield-Sisters,”

            “Why not?” Lissa asked him.

            Farkas raised one hand to point toward a web spun on the door frame. “Ever since Dustman’s Cairn, the big crawly ones have been too much for me.”

            “You’re afraid of spiders?” I couldn’t contain a laugh. “You just charged in and fought upwards of fifteen ghosts, but you’re afraid of spiders.

            Farkas nudged me. “Every man has his weakness, and this is mine. Yours is Skeever.” I nudged him back. Then he looked at Lissa. “And yours is apparently my brother.” Farkas and I cackled with laughter.

            Lissa rolled her eyes. “By the Nine, when we get back to Jorrvaskr, you two will regret that.” She tried to look menacing but she just wasn’t.

            Farkas shrugged. “I’ll go back to Vilkas.” He turned on his heel and left us to continue without him.

            “Me and you, then?” Lissa asked me, knocking another arrow.

            I nodded. “Me and you.”

I stepped forward to slice the webbed barrier, then jumped to hide behind the doorway as Lissa fired at the spiders. She ducked as they spit at her, venom flying past her head, then fired another arrow. One more flew, and their scratching silenced. She nodded to me, signaling the path was clear.

            Inside the room, three spiders lay on the ground. They were the size of Lissa and I put together. “Hircine’s skull!” I said. “I understand Farkas now. These are disgusting.”

            Lissa snorted. “There’s more. Same drill?” I nodded, slicing the webs to clear her path once again.

            Past the eight-legged beasts, there were two more phantoms, waiting to slaughter us. To no avail, however, as Lissa conquered them before I could even ready my bow. I nodded to her, then to the pathway leading around the corner.

            We pressed on, and were greeted by a door. Lissa looked at me, shrugging as she pushed the door open. At the end of the hallway that waited within, there was a handle. I walked toward it, pulling it up and twisting it to release the latch that locked the door to our left. Lissa pushed that door open too, and together we walked into Ysgramor’s resting place.

            As we descended the steps, a blue mist appeared in front of a pit of fire in the center of the room. Lissa and I both drew weapons, expecting another phantom. Though a ghost did spawn, we never swung. We looked at each other, our mouths hanging open as we realized who had joined us.

            “Greetings, younglings.” Kodlak said, a smile on his face.

            I cleared my throat. “Is it really you?”

            He laughed. “Of course. My fellow Harbingers and I have been warming ourselves here.” He looked at Lissa then. “Trying to evade Hircine.”

            Lissa shook her head, confused. “But there’s nobody else here.”

            Kodlak chuckled again, raising his hands to warm them against the flames. “You see only me because your heart knows me to be the only Companion leader. I’d wager old Vignar could see half a dozen of my predecessors.” He lowered his hands. “And I see them all. The ones in Sovngarde. The ones trapped with me in Hircine’s realm.”

            I stepped back, letting them speak to each other. Lissa reached out to him. “Kodlak, I’m so sorry.”

            “They all see you, Karalissa.” he continues, ignoring her apology but taking her hand. “You have brought honor to the name of the Companions. We won’t soon forget it.”

            “Vilkas says you can still be cured.” Lissa squeezed his hand tightly. “Is it true?”

            Kodlak nodded. “I hope. Do you still have the witch’s head?”

            Lissa nodded, opening her bag and pulling the wench’s head out by the hair. She held it toward Kodlak, dangling it without any delicacy. I gagged as I watched its mouth ooze a disgusting liquid then disconnect from the jaw. It hit the ground with a plunk, and Lissa didn’t even mind. I groaned and sputtered in disgust.

            Kodlak looked at me, and I straightened up immediately. He gave me a wink, then turned back to Lissa. “That’s horribly disgusting.” Lissa shrugged. “I’m honored you carried it all this way. Throw it in the fire to release its magic.”

            Lissa nodded, looking at me before she walked toward the pit of flames. She held the head over the dancing red embers, then dropped it in.

            The fire crackled and sparked, and then Kodlak dropped to his spectral knees. From his blue form, a red translucent wolf emerged. It howled and stared at Lissa, its jaws dripping crimson light.

            Lissa backed away from it, trying to ready her bow, but the wolf sprang forward. With no time to knock an arrow, she gripped the small arrow like a dagger. As the wolf lunged, ready to pounce on top of her, she grabbed it by the throat, stabbing it repeatedly in the throat with the arrow. The wolf squirmed and clawed at her, scratching her arms and legs, then it whimpered and fell.

            Kodlak’s spirit cried out from his place on the floor, and Lissa kicked the wolf to the side to help him to his feet. He wobbled, then steadied. Kodlak looked at me, then at Lissa.

            “You have slain the beast within me.”

            Lissa held his hands in hers. “It is what I meant to do from the moment you asked. I’m sorry it took so long.”

            Kodlak placed his hand on her face. “There’s nothing to forgive, youngling. I thank you for this gift. The other Harbingers, though, remain trapped by Hircine. Perhaps from Sovngarde, the heroes of old will join me in their rescue. The Harrowing of the Hunting Grounds. It will be a battle of such triumph.”

            “Is that where you go now?” Lissa asked, her eyes soft with satisfaction. “To Sovngarde?”

            “Yes, and perhaps someday you will join us in that battle. But for today, return to Jorrvaskr. Triumph in your own victory.” He stroked the scar across her eye, then placed both hands on her shoulders. “And lead the Companions to further glory.”

            “What? Kodlak, I don’t understand.” Lissa shook her head, unsure of what this meant. I too was confused.

            “You were always destined to be Harbinger, to lead when I could not. That is where you must go now.” He extended his hand to me, and I shuffled toward him. I held his hand in mine, and Lissa took his other. “Karalissa now leads the Companions.”

            “As you will it, Kodlak.” Lissa said, her voice shaking.

            Kodlak moved his hands, placing each on either of our cheeks. “Take care of my boys.”

            With that, he faded into the air surrounding us, ascending to Sovngarde.


	19. Dawn's Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karalissa has her own thoughts about all that's transpired, but more than anything, she's worried that Vilkas is angry with her. Later, the Circle must return to Jorrvaskr and face the whelps.
> 
> POV: Karalissa

            We sat in the fields outside of Whiterun, watching the moon descend over the rubble of the watchtower to the west. We had been quiet since Aela had told the wolf brothers of our time with Kodlak. At first, they were amazed it actually worked. Then, Aela shared with them my predetermined promotion, and they had been very quiet.

            We had walked back to Whiterun in absolute silence, other than Farkas humming idly ahead of us. Aela walked close behind him, poking the back of his neck with an arrow every few minutes, and then pretending she hadn’t when he spun around.

            Vilkas had walked beside me without a word. He looked at me often, but when I would look up to greet his gaze, he would look away. I had thought he was furious with me. He wanted to be Harbinger. I didn’t deserve it.

            In the fields, waiting for the sun to rise, I listened to the sound of Aela and Farkas breathing, deepened in their sleep. Vilkas was walking around, trying to clear his head, I was sure. So I sat, alone, near the sleeping werewolves and watched the sun threatening to rise.

            We hadn’t returned to Jorrvaskr just yet. Though it was unspoken, we didn’t want to sneak into the halls in the middle of the night. We needed to address this head-on.

            In all honesty, I couldn’t stop thinking. How could I be the Harbinger? What had I done to deserve such an honor? I rubbed my face, exhausted from the night’s events but unable to sleep. I pulled my hands away, seeing that my warpaint had chipped off a little.

            I had single handedly ruined the Companions. If I had never joined, maybe things would have gone differently. Skjor died because I drank the blood. Kodlak died because I angered the Silver Hand. If I had just stayed in Riften, at the Bee and Barb, maybe everyone would be happier.

            My thoughts were interrupted as Vilkas sat next to me, his armor clanking as he settled into the grass. I said nothing, waiting for him to speak first. I expected him to be angry, to tell me this was unfair, because it was.

            Instead, he brushed my hair over my ear, clearing a path for him to kiss my cheek. I stared at him, confused. All he did was wrap his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me close to him. I rested my head against him, looking up at the stubble on his chin.

            He breathed deeply, then exhaled fresh morning air. “You and I always seem to be up before the rest of the Companions, pup.” I relaxed entirely when I heard the nickname. Things felt normal for a moment. I shut my eyes, trying to forget about the night.

            “I couldn’t tell you. Early birds, I suppose.”

            “Aye, we are.” Vilkas rested his cheek against the top of my head. “What do we do now, Harbinger?” Our moment of blissfulness was short-lived.

            I winced at the title, and Vilkas laughed. I lifted my head off of his shoulder, staring at him in utter confusion. “You’re not angry?”

            Vilkas jerked his head back in surprise. “Angry? How could I be angry with you, Kara?”

            “Everything I’ve done.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            I swallowed. “I killed Skjor.”

            Vilkas squinted at me in disbelief. “Skjor should not have gone into enemy territory without a Shield-Sister.”

            “I killed Kodlak, Vilkas.”

            Vilkas shifted uncomfortably. “Kodlak would have lived, Kara. He had the upper hand, and he just…gave up. To save me. I saw it myself.”

            I shook my head. “I don’t deserve to be Harbinger. I’ve brought so much sadness to Jorrvaskr, so much sorrow. I have no right to lead.”

            Vilkas furrowed his brow, staring at me like I had gone mad. “You’re joking, right?” When I shook my head, he laughed. “Kara, you have more right than any of us. You retrieved all of the fragments of Wuuthrad, more than once. You saved Aela’s life, and in doing so endangered your own. You spent time reading to my brother simply because it made him happy. You avenged a fallen brother, and assisted Aela when she was blind with grief. You sought honor and redemption for our fallen Harbinger, and avenged him too. Then, even in his death, you carried a dead witch’s head in bag on your shoulder to ensure he would receive the _afterlife_ he wanted.”

            “But Vilkas—”

            Vilkas shook his head. “Karalissa, all of the things you think you’ve done wrong are far outnumbered by the good that you bring to Jorrvaskr. You’re compassionate and intelligent, and Kodlak wanted _you_ to lead. If that’s not the stamp of approval, I don’t know what is. You’re going to lead, and you’re going to be damned good at it.”

            I laughed, “You aren’t angry?”

            “No, pup. Never angry.”

            “But didn’t you want to be Harbinger?”

            Vilkas snorted. “Me? No, never. I couldn’t lead those intolerable whelps. I’d kill them before I could offer any sort of helpful guidance.”

            I giggled. “You don’t mean that.”

            He shrugged. “Well, no. But I’m nobody’s master.” He laughed quietly at his own private joke, his eyes growing distant. After a moment, he put his hand against my face. “You are the Harbinger, and that’s good news.” He kissed my cheek again, and then my nose.

            Aela groaned. “Vilkas, it’s hard enough to sleep with the sound of your snoring coming from down the hall. Imagine how difficult it is to sleep with you talking and kissing all over Lissa.”

            Farkas rumbled too, his eyes covered by his elbow. “It’s very loud.”

            “Get over it.” Vilkas said, leaning in to kiss me again, ignoring the protest of the rest of the Circle.

______________________________________________________________________________

            We arrived at Jorrvaskr about an hour after all of the shops opened, ensuring that the Companions would be awake. Aela stood with Farkas, pushing the door open. Vilkas and I followed close behind.

            Within, all of the Companions waited for us. They stared with curious eyes, seeking answers. We stood on the steps above the large table, looking down as they gathered below us.

            Vilkas stepped forward before anyone could speak. Taking a deep breath, he spoke in a booming voice. “The Circle returns to you from Ysgramor’s Tomb. We travelled far and long to seek council in Ysgramor’s resting place.”

            Torvar crossed his arms. “Council? I don’t understand.”

            Vilkas continued. “We sought the council of our fallen Harbinger. Of Kodlak.” The Companions mumbled amongst themselves for a moment, whispering of disbelief and astonishment. “We needed his wisdom, his guidance, on how to proceed now that he is gone. His spirit came to us, and told us of our fate.”

            Ria looked amazed. “What did he say?”

            Vilkas looked back at us, then at the rest of Jorrvaskr. “Kodlak chose Karalissa to take the title of Harbinger.”

            The room erupted, loud enough for me to stagger back a bit. The Companions were yelling, shouting questions, demanding answers, yet not allowing us to speak. Aela looked angry, ready to pick another fight as Njada screamed about unfairness.

            I searched my thoughts, begging for any sliver of knowledge. What would Kodlak say to reassure them? What would Skjor have done to calm them down? How should we address them, how can we offer them some comfort?

            As I took in the scene once more, then Companions raging below as Vilkas shouted for them to quiet, I realized that how I had been judging my actions, carrying myself, was always to please everyone else.

Everything I did was done so I would be seen as respectable, noble, a warrior. I could lead, I had to lead, but not for them. To redeem myself. To honor my fallen family. To prove that I was more than just a girl who joined the Companions. I was the Harbinger.

            I stepped forward, holding up a hand to silence the room. Vilkas looked at me, obviously unsure if I would be okay. I nodded, signaling him to step back. I turned to the room, and addressed Jorrvaskr.

            “Companions, I am well-aware that you don’t believe I am in any position to be named Harbinger. To be honest, I didn’t feel any differently from how you do now a few hours ago. But I’ve put a great deal of thought into it, and I’ve found my own conclusion.” I folded my hands in front of me. “I arrived in Whiterun only a few months ago. Less than three, as Njada has pointed out on several occasions. I am the youngest of you, the newest, but I encourage you to ask yourself if perhaps there is a reason I arrived when I did.

            “Kodlak Whitemane allowed me to join the Companions, and I bore witness to the most tragedy I’ve encountered in my years in this realm. Through all of the bad, the sadness that has cast upon Jorrvaskr like a spell from the Void, I stood with you all. I felt the grief that you feel. I’ve carried the burdens you have carried. I’ve held the stood in the face of defeat as you all have.

            “I myself was horrified to hear this information. When Kodlak’s spirit came to us, I thought I was hallucinating when he uttered my name as the chosen Harbinger. But I ask you, Companions, what if there is not fate behind this? I found the Companions just months before tragedy struck, plaguing our wooden walls and dampening our heavy hearts. Perhaps it is because I was destined to proceed Kodlak Whitemane. To carry on for him when his life was taken so quickly from us.

            “I am not offering to be your master or your general or ruler. I am providing counsel, listening ears, words of advice, and a shield in your defense. I cannot tell you whole-heartedly that I know what I’m doing in the slightest, but I can tell you that I have some idea of what I can offer you all.

            “I would like to meet with each of you individually to talk. I would like to know what you wish from me, and in return I can offer any information you may seek. I only ask for respect for each other, all of us. We cannot strive in the wake of devastation if we linger on the facts of what has been. We can only move forward if we accept the fate we have been given, and not fight against that which we cannot change. Can we not agree upon this?”

            Slowly, but surely, the Companions nodded. Eorland and Vignar looked on at me from the corner of the room farthest from us, but they wore faces of approval. They began to clap, and so did join the rest of Jorrvaskr, applauding my makeshift speech and accepting my title.

            I nodded my thank you to them all, then spoke again. “I will resign to my chambers for a while, try to organize both my workspace and my thoughts. I encourage all of you to come and speak to me. I’m eager to hear anything you have to say.” With that, I walked down the steps toward the living quarters, receiving slaps on the back and handshakes from the Companions as I passed.

            Once I was behind the closed door of the quarters, I walked all the way to my room. I couldn’t walk fast enough, my legs still shaking from my spur of the moment speech. Once I was in my room, I shut the door, leaning against it to relax my exhilarated body.

            Not moments after, a knock came at my door. I straightened, composing myself before I answered. I opened the door, greeted by the faces of the Circle, looking down at me.

            “Slamming doors on us, huh?” Aela said, humor sparkling in her blue eyes. “The power sure did go to your head quickly.”

            Vilkas nudged her, a sly smile on his face. “Careful, Aela. She might craft you a beautifully worded speech as to why you shouldn’t accuse her of power frenzy.”

            I glared at them, conjuring my best look of a warrior. They stared at me a moment, then Farkas spoke. “That’s not scary, Lissa.”

            I sighed, exhaling laughter and inhaling relief, and I stepped aside to let them into my room. They entered, scattering about my room, making themselves comfortable and talking about the scene I’d just caused in the mead hall.

            As Vilkas walked through the doorway, he brushed my hair behind my ear. “Good speech, pup.”

            I smiled up at him. “Thank you, grumpy.”


	20. Dawn's Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas tries to spend a pleasant day with Karalissa, but finds out his brother has told his secret. Later, Karalissa shares a discovery.
> 
> POV: Farkas

            I sat with Lissa in Kodlak’s old study. She had rearranged everything. Turned Kodlak’s study into a library full of books for us. She still used the same table in the corner that Kodlak did, but she had pulled it to the center of the room. She had a lot of meetings with the Jarl and the Gray-Manes and the Battle-Borns. I hardly got to spend time with her anymore.

            So today was our day to read and laugh and talk. Vilkas was training with the whelps in the courtyard, so he couldn’t bother us.

            Lissa finished the book she was reading. It had been full of big words and about the Dark Brotherhood, which was scary.

            “I didn’t like that one.” I said to her, taking the book to put back on the shelf.

            Lissa was laughing. “I wasn’t fond of it either, don’t worry. But if we’re going to read every book in Whiterun, we have to read the bad ones too.”

            “Oh.” I said. “That makes sense.” I put the book back in its place, then sat back down at the table. I crossed my arms behind my head and leaned back in the chair. “This was a fun day.”

            Lissa leaned forward, her elbows propped up on the table, and her chin on her hands. “Today was a good day. It’s been hard to do things for fun recently.”

            “Yeah, you’re always busy now.”

            She sighed. “I know. I have a lot of new responsibilities now, and I’m trying to accustom to them.”

            “I know. It’s good we could spend some time together today, Lissa. I miss you.”

            She smiled. “I miss you too, Farkas.” She raised an eyebrow. “How is, um, Aela?”

            I stared at her for a moment before I answered. Her face told me she wanted to know something. Like a secret.

            I frowned. “Dammit. Vilkas told you.”

            Lissa sat up. “Oh, no he didn’t. I just guessed.”

            “You’re a bad liar. Your nose wrinkles when you lie.” I shook my head. “Sorry, Lissa, but I have to punch my brother to death now. I’m sure you’ll miss him. I guess I will too after a while.”

            Lissa laughed. “It’s not like I didn’t already think you did, Farkas. Vilkas just…answered when I asked.”

            “I told him I’d hurt him if he told. He’s not very smart sometimes.” I leaned forward. “Vilkas is in love with you, Lissa. He promised he wouldn’t say anything about Aela if I didn’t tell you that.”

            Lissa’s face turned red, but she smiled really big. “Well, that wasn’t very nice of you, spilling your brother’s secrets to the Harbinger.”

            I leaned back again. “Yeah well it wasn’t very nice of him to tell my secrets to the Harbinger either.”

            She shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.” She shook her head. “The twins of Jorrvaskr are a handful. What am I going to do with you two?”

            I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’ll handle my brother. You worry about what punishment you’ll give me after I pound him into dust.”

            There was a knock at her door then. “I certainly will do that, Farkas.” She turned toward the door. “Come in.”

            The door opened and my brother walked in. A man I hadn’t seen before stood behind him. He was a wizard or something.

            Vilkas gave her a hard look before he spoke to Lissa. “Harbinger, a man from Riften has been wandering around Jorrvaskr looking for you.” He stepped to the side, letting the man walk in.

            Lissa stood, her face confused. “Hi, Marcurio.”

            “Hello, Karalissa.”

            Lissa looked at both of us, then spoke. “If you two will excuse us. Have a seat, Marc.” She smiled at the Imperial, then followed us out of the room.

            Vilkas frowned at her outside the door. “Will you be alright with that man? I don’t like him.” Vilkas had towered over the man, who was about the size of Lissa.

            Lissa nodded. “I’ll be fine, Vilkas. Don’t be such a grump. He’s an old friend from Riften. This shouldn’t take long.”

            “Old friend? He didn’t speak of you like you were a friend, Kara. He acted like you were his lover.” Vilkas scowled, his eyes angry.

            “He’s the book friend.” I said, raising my eyebrow at Vilkas. “I heard all about the book friend from Riften.”

            “Cut that out.” She told us. “I can handle this.”

            Vilkas leaned down to her and grumbled. “If he tries anything with you, I will not hesitate cut off his—”

            “Okay! Thank you, Vilkas. Go finish your training.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, then turned to me. “Can we continue reading later?”

            “Yes, Lissa. I’d like to have a talk with my brother anyway.” I stared at Vilkas, who looked scared suddenly.

            Lissa looked between us, back and forth again and again. “Talos above, please don’t kill each other. I’ll be back.” She opened the door and stepped inside.

            Once the door closed, I slowly turned my head back to my brother. His eyes widened, and he started to back away.

            “You told Lissa.”

            Vilkas laughed. “She asked! I can’t lie to the Harbinger.”

            “Yeah? Well you’re going to wish you had.” I ran after him down the hall. He ran into his room, slamming his door and leaning against it. I rammed my body against the door to open it. The door smashed open and Vilkas flew across his room. He landed on his stomach, but his heavy armor slowed him down as he tried to get up.

            I jumped on top of him, smearing his face against the ground. He wiggled underneath me, but he couldn’t get up. “I told you not to tell anybody.”

            “Kara asked!” He grumbled. “I will not lie to her. And you said not to tell Aela.”

            “I said not to say anything. You said something. Now you have to pay.”

            Vilkas got an arm free, and reached back to smack me on the cheek. I grabbed his arm and tucked it back underneath my leg. Then, I licked my finger and stuck it in his ear. Extra slobbery.

            “Agh, stop Farkas!” He shook his head like crazy, trying to get away from me. He kicked my back with his boots, and I slapped the back of his head.

            I leaned down to his ear. “Jokes on you, brother. I told Lissa.”

            He was breathing heavily, trying to wiggle away from me. “About Aela?”

            I laughed. “Nope. About you.”

            Vilkas was quiet for a moment. Then he whirled around, “You son of a bitch.”

            He knocked me off of him then jumped on top of me. He put his hand on my face, smooshing my cheek and covering my eye. I bit his hand, and he flew back.

            “If I’m a son of a bitch, you are too. We’re brothers, idiot!” I yelled at him, crawling toward him and wrapping my arm around his neck. I rubbed my fist against the top of his head, making him yell and scream as I ruffled his hair.

            “You’re the idiot!” He said, his hands against my face, trying to mess me up. “Traitor!”

            “Big mouth!”

            “Milk Drinker!”

            “Weakling!”

            “What the hell are you two doing?” We both looked up, and Aela was standing in the doorway.

            Vilkas shook me off of him. “He’s a traitor, and he must be punished.”

            “It doesn’t look like you’re winning, Vilkas.” Aela walked into the room to help him up. Once he was on his feet, he stared at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

            “Gods, how old are you two? You’re acting like children.”

            Vilkas smirked at me then. “Aela, I have some information that might interest you.”

            I grabbed a book off of Vilkas’ shelf and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest, and he caught it and tossed it back at me.

            Aela stepped between us, then grabbed my arm and pulled me out of Vilkas’ room. “This isn’t over.” I said to him on the way out. He nodded to me, a smile on his face. He had won, because now I had to tell Aela.

            She guided me past Lissa’s chambers, where I could hear her talking to that wizard. Aela pulled me into her room, and closed the door behind us. She flopped back on her bed, sitting up against the wall. I pulled a chair up to her, sitting in it backwards.

            “What was that about?” she asked me.

            “Vilkas told a secret.”

            Aela laughed. “That was rude of him. He deserved a brawl.”

            “Oh yes.” I said to her. “He deserved a beating more than anything.”

            “What was it, then?” she asked. “The secret.”

            I looked at her for a moment, then I shrugged. “Nothing really exciting.”

            Aela looked at me. Her eyes narrowed, and her eyebrows clenched together. “You’re lying to me, Farkas.” She smiled. “It is exciting.”

            I shrugged again. “Not exciting. Just true. And secret.”

            “Tell me!” She grabbed my arm and shook me. I felt my stomach flop around.

            “It’s not a secret if I tell.” I told her, trying not to throw up on her. I was nervous.

            Aela rolled her eyes, leaning back against her wall again. She stared at me, waiting to hear it.

            I sighed. “Fine. It was two secrets, really. Vilkas told me a secret about him, and I told him a secret about me to make him feel better. We promised we wouldn’t tell, and he told Lissa.”

            “But why did he say you were the traitor?” Aela looked confused.

            “Well, he told my secret to Lissa, but it wasn’t about her. When Lissa told me that he told her, I told her what Vilkas told me.”

            Aela blinked. “What?”

            I groaned. “Vilkas is in love with Lissa. I wasn’t supposed to tell, but he told my secret first.”

            Aela’s eyes widened. “So they are in love? I knew it!” She laughed. “Oh, this is great. Do we smell Mara in their future?”

            “I don’t think we can smell Mara. We just use the amulet.”

            She laughed again. “Of course, Farkas. That’s what I meant.” She leaned back again, still laughing. Then she sat up. “Wait, what could Vilkas have told her to make you mad enough to spill the beans?”

            “What beans?” I didn’t spill any beans.

            “It’s another expression, Farkas. What was the secret Vilkas told?”

            I took a deep breath. “That I think I love you, the way Vilkas loves Lissa.”

            Aela was quiet for a long time. She didn’t look mad or disgusted. She just looked sad. Then she spoke. “You love me?”

            I shrugged. “Yeah.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

            I thought for a moment. “I guess because I know you’re still sad about Skjor. I didn’t want to make you feel confused. You loved him, and I don’t want you to think you have to love me instead.”

            Aela laughed. “That’s very…considerate.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. Even though she still smiled, her eyes were sad. “I did love Skjor. I still do, honestly.”

            “I know.”

            She shook her head, a crooked smile on her face. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.”

            “I know that too. I’m not asking you to.”

            “Then why did you tell me?” she asked.

            I smiled at her, laughing quietly. “I didn’t tell you because I want you to stop loving him. Or because I want you to love me. I told you because you deserve to know.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “The same reason I spend so much time with you. And read with Lissa. And pick on Vilkas. It makes me happy. You make me happy. And if I can make you happy, I want you to know that I will. If you want to be only friends, that’s what I’ll do. If you want to be more than that, that’s what I’ll do.”

            Aela nodded. “I do have feelings for you, Farkas. I’ve felt so normal, spending time with you. I just don’t know how to separate those feelings from what I feel for Skjor.”

            “And that’s okay.” I told her. I squeezed her hand. “No rush. Just telling you so you know.”

            She squeezed back. “Okay.”

______________________________________________________________________________

            “Do you want this one?” Aela held up a tunic that she has pulled from my dresser.

            “Yes.” I told her, tossing more shoes into a bag. We had been cleaning my room out for a while now. Aela wanted to clean it. Said it was too messy. And smelly. She wanted to find the smell. Ended up moving my furniture and decorating. I’m not sure why.

            “You never wear this.” she said, waving it toward the bag I held.

            “Doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

            Aela grunted. “Fine.”

            As we continued to clean, there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” I said before the door opened. My brother stood behind Lissa as they walked in.

            “Are we interrupting?” Lissa asked, smiling at me.

            “Hi, Lissa. Where’s your wizard?” Aela asked, her eyebrow raised. Vilkas grumbled as she mentioned him.

            “Marcurio went home.” Lissa said.

            “Well what are you two doing now?” I asked. Lissa was holding something behind her back.

            Lissa sat on my bed, and Vilkas leaned against the wall beside her, looking down at her. She looked at all of us, then she smiled again. “I’ve found a new book for us to read. I think all of us should read it together.”

            She pulled the small brown book from behind her back, smiling at all of us as we looked at it. I looked at my brother, then at Aela. “I know that book. Kodlak wrote in that.” I told them.

            My brother furrowed his brow. “Is that what it is, Kara?”

            She shrugged. “I found it earlier. I haven’t read it yet.”

            “Let’s hear it then, Lissa.” Aela sat beside me, leaning against my shoulder. Lissa smiled at us, then opened the book and began to read.

 

            _In my dream, I see the line of Harbingers start with Ysgramor. Each of them ascends to Sovngarde, until we come to Terrfyg, who first turned us to the ways of the beast. He tries to enter Sovngarde, but before he can even approach Tsun, he is set upon by a great wolf, who pulls him into the Hunting Grounds, where Hircine laughs with welcoming arms._

_Terrfyg seems regretful, but also eager to join Hircine after a lifetime of service as a beast._

_Then I see every next Harbinger turn away from Sovngarde and enter the Hunting Grounds of their own accord. Until it comes to me, and I see great Tsun on the misty horizon, beckoning me. It appears I have a choice. And then, at my side, a stranger I had not seen before. As I look into her eyes, we turn to see the same wolf who dragged away Terrfyg, and she and I draw weapons together._

_I realize this is only a dream, but a strong enough dream to inspire a man like me to take to writing, so it must be of some import._

_I've spoken of my thoughts to the Circle, withholding the part about the stranger lest Skjor worry I will no longer seek his counsel, and I was not surprised to see them torn by it. Skjor and Aela are strong in the ways of the beast, and even seemed to suggest that the Hunting Grounds would be their choice of afterlife, if it were truly a choice._

_Vilkas seemed most troubled. The boy is as fierce as a sabre cat in battle, but his heart's fire burns too brightly at times. He felt deceived, and I don't blame him. Farkas didn't know what to think, but I believe he will come around with me and his brother eventually. He usually does._

_I don't know what to do about Skjor and Aela. I know they respect the Companions, and me, but they take to the blood more deeply than the rest of us._

_Fortune smiles upon us. Yesterday, Vilkas was telling me how difficult it had been for him to give up his transformations. Until we can pursue a true cure, the twins and I have chosen not to give in to the beastblood. For me, it's provided a clearer head, but Vilkas seems to be suffering a bit for it. Farkas seems completely untroubled. That boy continues to amaze with his fortitude._

_While Vilkas was confiding, through the shadows of Jorrvaskr, I saw a newcomer approach, who wished to join our numbers. It was the stranger from my dream, the one who would stand with me against the beast. Vilkas began speaking obliquely, not wishing to air our problems in front of our guest, and I had to be doubly cautious to not reveal anything of our secrets to the newcomer while also not revealing the details of my dream to Vilkas. I don't know how the politicians deal with these sorts of machinations daily._

_In any case, I've sent Vilkas to test the newcomer. We'll see if she is truly the great warrior I dreamt of._

_This newcomer, it seems, is made of decent stock. She calls herself Karalissa, and has already impressed some of the Circle with her mettle. I still keep my own counsel on her place in my dream, for now. Let us see what kind of destiny she is carving before hitching to her._

_In the meanwhile, I look for ways of cleansing my blood. The writings and legends on the subject are sparse and contradictory. I don't wish to engage any wizardry on this matter, but I fear they may be the only ones who best know how to navigate these worlds of knowledge._

_It's apparent to me now that Terrfyg's choice to turn us was indeed a mistake. Magics and their ilk are not in keeping with the spirit of the Companions. We face our problems directly, without the needs of such trickery. I can only hope to guide us back to the true path of Ysgramor before the rot takes me._

_Karalissa continues to impress. I don't know yet where she will stand on the question of the blood, but the question has not been presented yet. She does know that we carry the beastblood, and appears curious about it. Soon enough, I can explain our troubles, and hopefully see what role she will play._

_I'm amazed that Aela thinks she can keep a secret among this drunken rabble. Especially with the loss of Skjor (my heart aches), emotions are fraying, and the walls of discretion are the first to fall._

_Apparently she and Karalissa are waging their own separate war against the Silver Hand, in retaliation for Skjor's death. Their hearts are noble, but the course of vengeance is running hot, and I fear the counterstroke that may come if they do not rein in their fury._

_Karalissa shows valor, though, even in this more underhanded time. We have not had cause to speak much, and that is something I deeply regret. I have high hopes for her destiny, as I realized that her appearance in my dream may indeed mark her as the Harbinger to succeed me._

_I have received few dreams over the course of my life, but when they come, I have learned to trust them. I have also learned to trust the instincts of my heart, which tells me that Karalissa can carry the Companions [sic] legacy as truly as any residing in Jorrvaskr, especially with the loss of Skjor. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted. Only Karalissa stands as a true warrior who can keep a still mind amidst these burning hearts._

_I will not speak to her of any of this, though. It is too much to burden another with. My hope is that she and I can keep counsel over the coming years, that I can impart the wisdom of the Harbingers. All things in time. Firstly, I will seek her assistance in the matter of the witches of Glenmoril. It would appear that our path to the cure is not without some poetic justice for the tricksters who first cursed us._


	21. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas and Vilkas make arrangements to hunt a dragon with Skyrim's most legendary hero, the Dragonborn. However, things don't go...quite how they planned.
> 
> POV: Vilkas

“You’re sure you don’t want to go?” I asked the Harbinger, who sat at on top of her desk in the corner of her little library, her back propped against the wall. She had her nose in a book, and she had been nodding and mumbling one-worded answers at my excited chatter.

            “No, I don’t want to go.”

            Farkas had begun to talk about dragons about a week before that day. He insisted that he needed to know if they existed, and that he meet the Dragonborn, who happened to be visiting his home in Whiterun. All that had to be done was walk up to the cloud district and ask Jarl Balgruuf to convince the Dragonborn to accompany us on a mission to slay a dragon for ourselves.

            Since Balgruuf actually owed the Companions a favor or two, and since Vignar was fairly intimidating to the Jarl, all we had to do was mention that Vignar had been talking about speaking to Stormcloak himself about Dragonsreach, and how nice the view was from up there. The Jarl was kind enough to ask the Dragonborn to accompany us, and the Dragonborn apparently accepted.

            “And why not? Surely, the Harbinger of the Companions wants to meet Skyrim’s most powerful and legendary warrior for herself.”

            Kara looked up at me from her book, one eyebrow raised. “I assure you Vilkas, I do not.” She looked back down at her book. I stepped toward her, snatching the book out of her hands and holding it above her head. “Hey!”

            “Tell me why you don’t want to go.”

            She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I thought you could use some quality time with your brother.”

            I held the book toward her, exposing the page she was on. “Give me a real answer, or I’ll close it, and I won’t mark the page.”

            “Vilkas, give me the book.”

            “Give me an answer.” She shot me a look that I’m sure she thought was menacing, but to me it was nothing but adorable. I pretended to make the book wobble. “Hurry Kara, it’s slipping.”

            She laughed, shaking her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you absolutely must know, I don’t have any interest in slaying dragons.”

            “What? None at all?”

            She shook her head. “What’s the point? They’re magnificent creatures. Why hunt them down, end their lives just for sport?” She shifted, letting her legs hang off the edge of the table. “In all honesty, Vilkas, I don’t see why you’re so interested.”

            “Kara, I’ve been swearing for years that I’ve killed one of everything in Skyrim.”

            She rolled her eyes again. “Oh, I’m well aware.”

            “I’ve never killed a dragon. All that boasting will have been false information.” I shrugged. “Plus, Farkas doesn’t even believe they really exist”

            “And I hope you have an amazing time, Vilkas. I want to hear all about it when you come back.” Kara held her hand out for the book.

            We had not talked about the secret Farkas had told her, which was no longer a secret. Though that had been weeks ago, it was like nothing had changed.

            I had really tried not to love her. Now was not the time to be in love, to be wed, as per Nordic culture. Not with all that was going on. I tried to push the thoughts from my mind, but then she would look up at me with those happy brown eyes and it all came back. There would be a right time, I knew that. It just wasn’t now.

            I placed it back in her hand, making sure her place was still marked. “There’s nothing that can convince you to join me and Farkas?”

            She shrugged. “Maybe if you return with an interesting tale, I’ll accompany you next time.” I placed my hand on her cheek, running my thumb across the scar over her eye. She smiled at me, covering my hand with her own. “Please don’t get roasted alive. I don’t think you’d look good burnt to a crisp.”

            “Alright, pup. A nice golden brown, that’s all.”

            “The same goes for Farkas. You are both required to return to Jorrvaskr alive.”

            I leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I promise. We’ll be back.”

            She smiled at me again, nodding as I backed out of the room. “Have fun, grumpy.”

            I walked out of her room, closing her doors behind me. Even with the doors shut, I heard her grumble something unintelligible, which made me laugh quietly. Farkas waited for me at the end of the hall, and we walked together out of Jorrvaskr and down to Breezehome, the Dragonborn’s residence.

            A Nord woman waited outside, as we approached, she straightened up from her leaning position against the house. “You’re the Companions?” she asked us.

            “We are.” My brother said just before the door of the home swung open. The Dragonborn stepped out, near identical to my brother in height and size. He wore a helmet of iron, horns spouting from either side. He gave an awkward smile.

            “Companions.” he said, nodding to us in acknowledgement. Then he gestured toward the woman. “This is Lydia, my housecarl.”

            “I’m Vilkas. This is my brother, Farkas.”

            Farkas extended a hand, which the Dragonborn took and shook with force. “A pleasure, I’m sure.” he said. Then he looked between my brother and the housecarl. After a moment, he burst into laughter.

            “What’s so funny?” I asked, genuinely confused.

            He doubled over, laughing so loudly that people were staring as they passed. “Oh gods.” he said. “Oh my gods, they look exactly alike.”

            I looked then at Lydia and Farkas, both dressed in steel armor and gauntlets. Lydia’s hair was nearly the same shade as ours, but she didn’t look like us. She was sort of pretty, and I’m sure we were both dirty, as Kara never stopped pointing out.

            Lydia rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, please. He’s always like this.”

            The Dragonborn composed himself, then sighed. “We’re off to kill a dragon, huh?”

            Farkas nodded. “Yes.”

            “Alright then. Lead the way.”

 

            We traveled as a group toward our destination, which was assumed to take about two hours. Our travel had been spent listening to the Dragonborn tell the story of how he defeated Alduin the World Eater, and how he’d been to Sovngarde. He was rather pompous, if I had to describe him. He clearly knew he was a big deal, but something told me he had probably been that way his entire life.

            I had also picked up that he was rather excited to be with strangers, to tell his tales. Farkas loved to hear stories, which gave me the opportunity to make pleasant conversation with Lydia.

            “You have to put up with that all the time?” I had asked her when he and Farkas were just out of earshot. The Dragonborn had been talking about a woman from the Sleeping Giant Inn, and he had used some colorful vocabulary to describe her. I was glad then that Kara hadn’t come along, I myself was embarrassed to hear it.

            Lydia nodded. “Oh yes. I’m sworn to carry his burdens, however light or heavy they may be.”

            “He himself is a burden.” I noted.

            She had laughed. “He can be. This is part of his act, mind you. The fierce and mighty Dragonborn.” She sighed then. “My thane is actually rather pleasant when he isn’t being watched by fans.” She furrowed her brow. “Well, most of it is an act. He can be rather hot-headed. The foul mouth, as well, that’s him.” Lydia groaned, looking at me. “Maybe he is a burden.”

As we continued toward the supposed dragon, I grinned at my brother. His face, too, was very happy. He gave me a nudge. “Lissa would like him.” Farkas said to me, nodding to the Nord.

            I grinned, agreeing with him. “Dragonborn, we would be honored if you would meet our Harbinger.”

            The Dragonborn furrowed his brow beneath his helmet. “Your Harbinger is a woman?”

            Lydia scoffed at him. “Are you suggesting women can’t hold positions of authority, my Thane?” She glared at him challengingly.

            The Dragonborn rolled his eyes. “No, woman, I’m not suggesting anything about an entire gender. I just thought Harbinger meant a man. A woman would be a…Harbingress, or something.” He put up his hands in innocent defense. “It’s just a masculine term, Lydia. Don’t get all worked up about it.”

            Lydia grinned, but turned back to me and Farkas. “It would be an honor to meet your Harbinger. Unfortunately, my Thane has arranged to have dinner with the Jarl this evening.”

            The Dragonborn groaned. “Damned Balgruuf is always coming up with some reason to bother me. I can’t get away from him.”

            I laughed, to my surprise. “We understand, of course. You’re always welcome to visit Jorrvaskr. You could meet Kara another time.”

            The Dragonborn looked over his shoulder at me. “Who’s Kara?”

            Farkas spoke from beside me. “Our Harbinger.”

            “Her name is not Lissa?” Lydia asked us, her head turned around to face us.

            Farkas laughed. “No, it is. Her nickname.”

            “You call your Harbinger by her nickname?” Lydia asked. “Rather disrespectful, don’t you think?”

            I shrugged. “She makes an exception. She was Lissa long before she was the Harbinger.”

            Lydia laughed. “Your Harbinger must be very patient, then.”

            The Dragonborn stopped suddenly, his head whipping toward us. He stared at us, his mouth slightly agape.

            Lydia put a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright, my Thane?”

            He shook his head. “Your Harbinger, is her name Karalissa?”

            I narrowed my eyes, unsure of where this was leading. “Yes.”

            The Dragonborn stared at us for a moment more, then started to laugh. Lydia stared at him, her eyes growing wide as he spoke. “She’s been in Whiterun this whole time. Right under my nose.” he turned back to me. “Karl is the Harbinger? Of the Companions?”

            “What am I missing?” I asked, looking at Farkas. He shrugged, equally confused.

            The Dragonborn turned to Lydia, suddenly serious. “We need to go to Jorrvaskr, as soon as possible.”

            Farkas gasped. “What about the dragon?”

            The Dragonborn laughed. “I’ll get you another dragon, Companion. We have to go back to Whiterun. Now.”

            “What is going on?” I asked, growing both irritated and worried.

            The Dragonborn stepped toward me, removing his helmet. He exposed his shaggy hair, the color of honey, paired with dark brown eyes, identical to the eyes I’d fallen in love with at home.

            He glared at me, his eyes excited beneath thick brows. “Karalissa is my sister. I’d like you to take me to her.”

            I stared at him for a moment, his face a spitting image of Kara beneath a beard and scarred lips. I blinked before I spoke to him. “You’re Cassius?”

            He nodded. “That’s me.”

            Farkas laughed beside me. “Lissa’s brother is the Dragonborn.”

            I shook my head at Cassius. “Gods, Kara believes you to be dead.”

            Cassius furrowed his brow. “Dead?”

            I nodded. “After Helgen. She caught up to your wagon after it had been destroyed. She thinks you died in the ambush.”

            “How the hell do you know this, Companion?” Cassius stepped toward me, looking angry but sounding confused. Lydia put her hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

            Farkas stepped up beside me, displaying his brawn, superior in size to Kara’s brother. “Vilkas and I are very close with Lissa.”

            The Dragonborn’s eyes darted back and forth between us. His gaze rested on me, my fists clenched and my jaw set. “You have something you want to tell me about the nature of your relationship with my little sister?”

            Lydia stepped in between us, and put her hand on the Dragonborn’s face. “Cass, instead of fighting the people who have taken care of your sister in the years you couldn’t, why don’t we just go to Jorrvaskr to see her?”

            He scoffed, pointing at me. “Oh I’m sure he’s ‘taken care’ of my sister. This is bullshit, Lyd. I’ve been all over Skyrim looking for her and she’s been shacked up with this gothlord and his beefy brother. What the hell is going on?”

            I stepped toward him, talking around Lydia. “Don’t talk about her like that! Kara is a warrior, a brave and noble woman who saved the Companions in their time of need. She isn’t ‘shacked up’ with anyone. She has risked her life on countless occasions, just to go out and risk it again.” I jabbed his chest with my finger. “I don’t give a damn if you’re her brother or not. You have no right to speak about her in such a disrespectful manner.” I felt Farkas’ hand on my chest, holding me back from the Dragonborn.

            “He breathes fire, Vilkas.” my brother reminded me. He stepped toward the two across from us. “We’ll bring you to Lissa, but I want an apology. Vilkas has always protected Lissa. Just like I have protected her. Just like she has protected us.”

            “Lissa is a stupid nickname.” Cassius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smoke trailing out of his lips as he exhaled. When he opened his eyes again, there were tears spattered across his eyelashes. As they trailed his face and reached his scarred lips, they simmered and evaporated, trailing away in the wind.

He looked at me, begging for forgiveness. “We’ve been looking for my sister for a very long time. I didn’t know she was here, and I _live_ here. I feel stupid, looking everywhere but Whiterun. My little sister has been _alone_ , right in front of me, and I couldn’t find her.”

            I nodded, watching Lydia run her hands through his hair and wiping his cheeks, trying to calm him down. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her against him. I noticed then that they wore matching rings. “She spent a long time searching for you too, Dragonborn. But she hasn’t been alone.”

            He laughed, stepping forward with his hand extended. “Call me Cass, Companion.”

            I shook his hand. “Vilkas. Pleasure to meet you, Cass. Farkas and I will take you to Kara.”

            He nodded, the closest to a ‘thank you’ we would probably get. He grimaced, trying to recover from his momentary display of emotion, then took Lydia’s hand and walked toward Whiterun.

______________________________________________________________________________

            We walked into Jorrvaskr, thankful the mess hall was empty. It was too late at night for them to be awake, but the Companions would have plenty of questions if they had seen us. I guided the Dragonborn and his wife to my room, then asked them to wait while I woke Kara. Cassius sat patiently in the chair in the corner, Lydia standing next to him with her hand on his shoulder.

            I left Farkas outside the door, guarding the room while I walked to Kara’s room. I pushed the door open, walking past her little library to her bedroom. Inside, she was sleeping quietly, curled up in a green blanket. Her long hair was fanned out across her pillow, and her face was so peaceful in sleep.

            I sat on the edge of her bed, running my hand over her face. I grazed her freckled nose, the deep red scar across her eye, her soft lips. Her eyes fluttered open, glazed over in sleep. When she looked at me, she smiled.

            “You are absolutely beautiful.” I said to her, my hand still pressed against her face.          

            She laughed, closing her eyes again. “And so are you, grumpy.” She rested her head on my leg, looking up at me. “How was your dragon?”

            I ran my hand over her hair. “You need to come with me, pup.”

            She sat up then, her long hair tangled and draped across her shoulders. She put her hand on my chin, turning my head from side to side, then running her hand across my arms and chest. “Are you hurt, Vilkas?” Her voice was groggy in sleep.

            “No, Kara. I’m not hurt.”

            She furrowed her brow, then her eyes widened. “Farkas? Where is Farkas?”

            “He’s in my room.” I put my hands on either side of her face. She looked so confused. “No one is hurt, pup.”

            “Then I don’t understand. What’s going on?” She pulled herself from the bed, throwing her wardrobe open and pulling leather armor from the shelf.

            I stood from her bed, putting my hand on her shoulder. She spun around, and I took the armor from her, placing it neatly on the shelf again. “We brought the Dragonborn to meet you.”

            Her eyes narrowed. “Vilkas, it’s the middle of the night! I don’t want to meet the Dragonborn.”

            I laughed quietly, kissing her forehead. “Kara, you want to meet the Dragonborn.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room.

            In the hall, Farkas saw us and smiled at Kara. “Sorry to wake you, Lissa.”

            “And yet you two did it anyway.” She looked at the door. “And you put the Dragonborn in…Vilkas’ room. Is this some kind of late night prank? Because I’m really not interested.”

            “Surprises.” Farkas said, smiling at Kara.

            Kara rubbed her face. “Alright, I’ll meet the Dragonborn in my pajamas. I can promise that this won’t end nicely if this is some sort of joke, though.”

            A man’s laugh came from within the room as the Dragonborn and his wife listened to the Harbinger talking. Kara’s face fell, recognizing the laugh. She looked at me, then at Farkas. She furrowed her brow, demanding answers. “Vilkas…”

            “The Dragonborn and his wife are waiting for you.” I said to her, pushing her hair behind her ear. “They claim to know you.”

            Her eyes lit up, and she smiled at me as she turned toward the door, taking a deep breath and pushing it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for reading!!
> 
> Writing this was such an amazing experience, and I couldn't have done it without my closest friend and sister (you know who you are). The Companions were my favorite part of TESV: Skyrim, and it was incredible to be able to give my favorite characters personalities and backstories and flaws.
> 
> So, I'm sure there are questions; is the Dragonborn really Karalissa's brother? What well happen between Farkas and Aela? Vilkas and Karalissa seem to be on the same page, but will they ever admit their feeling to each other? Will Karalissa be successful in leading the Companions?
> 
> All of these answers, and probably more questions, will follow soon enough! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!  
> -haunter_ielle


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